Forces of Nature
by ToxicMKT
Summary: Huey's peaceful world is turned upside down when his best friend announces the news that he's marrying the lovely Jazmine Dubois. Huey should be thrilled, but there's one problem. He still loves Jazmine. And there's only one plane journey separating them.
1. Who said life would be easy?

Ok guys, here's another story for you:) More Boondocks, yay:D but please review this guys, and my other story, cos they're not long and reviews keep me going. No reviews=no more story. So keep that in mind folks! And I hope you enjoy!

Forces of Nature

London, Huey Freeman found, was an extremely refreshing city. Sure, the black population was seriously undermined by the Caucasian, but there was something _different_ about the city that made him fall in love with it every time he glanced out of his bedroom window. He was now just twenty-three years of age, and had learnt so much about the world around him, yet still felt there was more to digest. At that particular moment, he was leaning against the cool glass that stretched from ceiling to gleaming floor, gazing out at the world below.

For such early hours in the morning, London was surprisingly busy. The streets were teeming with life, both humans and machines mixing into life and finding their place in the world, each safe and secure within their own little niche. Huey had often felt, growing up, that he didn't belong in the modern world. No one could understand his way of thinking; he could see too many mistakes before they happened and could never understand just why people seemed to lack even the basic foundations of common sense that he had built upon as a child.

Nevertheless, he wasn't afraid to admit that his place in the world had finally arrived, and he viewed himself much like the missing piece to a jigsaw puzzle. Huey had found he had "grown out" of the idealistic neighbourhood that was Woodcrest…or so he liked to believe. He never wished to dwell much on the subject, and would only mention Chicago, if asked where he had emigrated from. Just thinking about the subtle neighbourhood and its residents made the man feel uncomfortable; he often tried not to focus on the matter.

The metallic radio on the kitchen worktop glinted slyly in the sunlight, the newsreader announcing that is was currently the time of 6:37am. This didn't give Huey much time to prepare himself for work, but he couldn't quite tear his gaze away from the clockwork mechanism of life bustling outside. Just over a year ago, still living in Woodcrest, Huey had been called up by his boss, about an urgent case. He was a detective, one of the best of their kind, and was responsible for catching many of the leading terrorists, not just the bog-standard criminals heard about most on the news.

But going back to that call…his boss had informed him of an urgent source of information that had arisen within the early hours of that morning, linking to serious suspicions of a potential terrorist attack in London. Detectives rarely were sent overseas, but the British agency was suffering considerably (two of their best detectives had been seriously injured and were recovering in hospital, another killed) and Huey was their next best bet. The "downside" was that the placement was for at least nine months, but the revolutionist literally jumped at the chance, desperate to leave the secluded neighbourhood and it's secrets as soon as physically possible.

He had started to pack immediately, only bothering to take a few objects with him as the apartment he was granted was already fully furnished, his boss noted down the phone. He had been so engrossed in the arrangements to the United Kingdom, he hadn't even thought of communicating with his close friends to explain what was going to be a sudden disappearance. His heart had sunk several metres at having to break the news of his leaving America, and he took a while to actually summon the courage to do so. Courage was an asset that naturally came to Huey Freeman…but even in circumstances like this, he felt a little like the rug had been pulled from his feet. Moving state was one thing…moving country was another.

His boss had politely asked if there was anyone Huey was going to be bringing with him, and the mocha skinned man had to repress a sigh when his answer was of a simple no. he had no girlfriend or partner in his life, and after his first and only time...well, he decided he simply wasn't cut out for it, and that focusing on his work and saving the world was far more important.

If only his heart would listen to his head.

Breaking his news to his grandfather was not all that difficult. Robert Freeman was eighty-something years old (Huey had lost count of the missed birthdays) and was having the time of his life with as many women he could get hold of in the time he had left. Huey had moved out of the house several years previously, and the grandfather had seen this big change in lifestyle approaching; all he asked of his grandson was a regular phone-call, of which Huey kept up perfectly.

Cindy was not someone Huey attempted to keep contact with, and he did not at all care when the thought of leaving meant not seeing her. He would gladly never see her again, even if he occasionally missed their love/hate relationship. Caesar and Jazmine, however, were a totally different matter. Both of the young adults had been best friends with the African-American since he was the ten year old newbie in Woodcrest, and had been there for him all the way. More than they often needed to be, actually, a situation which though he often acted exasperated about, he was grateful for honestly.

Michael Caesar, the dreadlocked Brooklyn boy, had been Huey's rock since moving from the Chicagoan suburbs to the retirement-heaven that was Woodcrest. He had seen past all the sceptical remarks and raging scowl to see the boy buried beneath all the hatred, and Huey could never have asked for anything more in a best friend. Jazmine Dubois, the lovely Jazmine Dubois, had latched onto Huey like a leech as soon as he had arrived in the sleepy neighbourhood, and he had soon become accustomed to her naïve company.

She was the one Huey would miss more than anyone else, because he knew that deep, deep down…he still loved her. He still ached for her skin against his, his lips caressed against hers. But that was just a fantasy world, a beautiful dream of what had once been. And what could have been, if it had not been for the accident. Huey never liked to ponder much over the accident at Woodcrest, but he could easily see it as the cause for the breakdown of their previously close relationship.

Huey had always suspected that Caesar had a crush on Jazmine, but that had all it seemed. A crush. Until that fateful day, when Huey had made one unavoidable mistake, and Caesar had sunk his claws into the girl faster than lightning. And then she was gone, the only girl the coffee-coloured man could ever confide in, could ever love. It was no crime, what Caesar had committed. He was still Huey's best friend, the same old Michael Caesar, who tossed Yo Mama jokes around like a baseball. But every time Huey saw the two together, he couldn't help but to feel a surge of anger in his chest, like the roaring of some unforgotten, injured creature.

These feelings had, eventually, diminished, and had been forgotten by the revolutionist until the previous night.

Huey had leapt on the first plane that arrived in his state, and was on his way to London without a second thought. He could finally leave all his problems behind, and start afresh in a new country, with new people, new surroundings, and possibly, a new Huey Freeman. His placement turned out to for exactly ten months, but the man soon found himself falling in love with the totally different atmosphere that came with London, and decided to take up a permanent place in the city. It had taken a while, but he had finally settled into a steady routine, one that saw him consistently working, calling his grandfather and, more often than he had first anticipated, speaking with his two close friends over the webcam.

That had been the reason for the screeching cries of the undisturbed creature to rise once again in the pit of his stomach. It had all started with a simple phone call.

"Mornin' Granddad."

Huey said into the phone distantly, leaning against the bedroom wall of his apartment lazily.

"Godammit boy, do you realise what time it is? You can't be ringin' all hours of the morning whenever you please, I'm an old man!"

"It's ten am in Woodcrest, Granddad."

Huey replied patiently, fiddling with the lone stationary items that littered his desk. He often tried hard not to feel so exasperated with his grandfather, mostly due to the fact that he had taken him for granted when they shared the same home, and dare the young man admit it, he did miss his granddad.

"So what? Me and my cutie pie have had hardly any sleep. I tell you boy, she's-"

And that was when Huey stopped listening. His grandfather was only going to give him a far too detailed, in depth description of his latest "cutie pie" and their previous misadventures, and the mocha skinned man hardly could be bothered to listen to the same speech that was given to him almost every phone call. He just wished his grandfather could find something new to announce to him.

"Which is why I think you ought to speak to them, boy."

"Sorry?"

Huey blinked back to reality, confused as to who would he ought to speak to that afternoon.

"Don't you ever pay attention Huey? Caesar and that cutie Jazmine. They've got something to tell you, best go and call them now boy!"  
>A rustle and a murmur could be heard faintly down the phone line, and Huey could only roll his eyes at the prospect of his grandfather still being in bed,<p>

"Yep, I think you should call them right now, Huey. Best go, see ya soon boy."

His grandfather gabbled into the phone before hanging up, and Huey sighed, having been unable to tell his grandfather about the possibility of him staying in London for, maybe, forever. Curious as to what his two best friends had to announce to him, the African-American padded to his luring laptop and attempted to tidy his workspace as the aged machine powered up steadily. He scowled and cursed his computer for being most definitely the slowest of its kind, and stretched out behind his chair as it flared feebly to life.

It took him several moments to log in to his account (he had to use several ridiculous passwords, both a fingerprint and eye recognition test and finally enter his full name to be able to enter his bog-standard computer), and even more to start up his most reliable messaging service. When, finally, these small tasks had been completed and his laptop was able to work with slight ease, Huey noticed that surprisingly, Caesar was logged in and waiting for him in America, presumably meaning that Jazmine was with him.

Preparing himself mentally for whatever was about to come, Huey took a deep breath and opened a webcam chat with his best friend, leaning on his elbows. After several more tedious moments, the webcam image popped up and there on his screen, was Jazmine Dubois in all her glory. God, she was beautiful. And it pained Huey to not be able to have her as his own…but there was no going back now.

"Huey!"

Her light voice chimed into the empty apartment sent shivers along his spine. How long had it been since they had last spoken?

"Hey Jazmine. How are you?"

He had wanted to bluntly get straight to the point, but decided that this approach was better for the situation they were in. he didn't realise how much he had missed the mixed-race girl.

"Ohmigosh we're brilliant, thank you! I just got my big break in the fashion industry, it's fantastic! And Caesar's just got promoted! But we've got something even better than that to tell you, but Caesar made me promise to wait until he was out of the shower. What's life like in London?"

"Oh, you know," Huey shrugged nonchalantly, making the call out to not being that much of a big deal, "Same old."

He paused for a moment, thinking over his words carefully, before adding quietly,

"Glad you got your big break though. It'll be great for you, I'm sure."

Jazmine beamed, her cinnamon curls shaking in their bands as she hopped up and down on the faded cornflower sofa,

"I'm so excited! I can hardly wait, it's going to be _so_ amazing Huey!"

There was a low conversation occurring in the back ground, and assuming it was Caesar, Huey wondered why he was the only one alone that day,

"Yeah I've got him here Caesar! Come on, I can't wait to tell him!...If you don't hurry up, I'll do it by myself and you'll never get the moment back again!"

The one-sided conversation bamboozled Huey, and the mystery surrounding the very conversation was quickly irritating him, but he couldn't help to feel his spirits raised when his best friend plonked his sopping self down onto the sofa alongside Jazmine, dreadlocks and all.

"Hey Big Huey! How've ya been man?"

"Great. Just great. Time of my life."

Huey replied, letting slip a tiny white lie to prove to himself, more than anyone, that he didn't need someone by his side to be happy in the world. Caesar mumbled a distorted reply beneath the towel (which was bright pink and supposedly Jazmine's) he was using to dry his hair with.

"Caesar come on! We have to tell Huey the news, it's not fair to make him wait!"

"Okay, okay, keep your knickers on Jazzy."

The Brooklyn man dropped the towel over one shoulder and Huey felt his stomach clench in anticipation as the couple leant forward to break the news. He watched their contrasted hands lace together almost automatically, like it was as natural as breathing, and tried to ignore the niggling voice in the depths of his head that wished he could be in Caesar's place.

"Guess what, Big Huey?"

Caesar switched on his trademark, casual grin, the one to win Jazmine's heart in the first place. Rolling his eyes, the young man on the other end of the laptop shrugged in a twinge of annoyance,

"What Caez?"

The anticipation was building now, so much that Huey could feel it stroking across him like a fine mist, caressing his skin and tugging playfully at his clothes. He could see the excitement in Jazmine's shimmering emerald eyes, boring into his own maroon before she burst forth with the answer, unable to contain herself any longer.

"_We're getting married_!"

She squealed excitedly, and Huey froze. He could feel his heart breaking in two, knowing for certain that now, there was no hope for the dreams he had prayed for with himself and the mulatto girl. Jazmine was still beaming, looking radiant next to Caesar, who tossed a stray, damp dreadlock from his vision and seemed rather proud with himself. It was just then, that Huey noticed the engagement ring on the young woman's finger, the single diamond casting rays of light around the room of their apartment, and he wondered how he could have missed it in the first place.

Though he felt like his world was disintegrating beneath his feet, Huey forced himself to haul back together, if just for the wellbeing of his friends. After all, they deserved the happiness. Not him. He never had.

"That's…"He hesitated, wondering what word could ever possibly fill the gap that was the true thought in his mind, "That's brilliant guys."

"Isn't it just?" Jazmine laughed, lapping up every word of Huey's response and far too excited to see the sadness that lurked behind his eyes. Huey didn't min though; no one seemed to realise he still loved the mixed-race girl apart from himself. He was just glad he wasn't with them, in Woodcrest, to see the happy couple every day of their lives. It would break him.

"I was hoping you'd be my best man, Huey?" Caesar interrupted his lonesome thoughts, and Huey nodded automatically.

"Of course I will."

The two young adults burst forth with ideas for the wedding, unable to contain themselves, and Huey realised they must have been planning this occasion for quite a fair length of time. How long had it taken them to tell him?

"It's gonna be in just two weeks Huey," Jazmine burst his bubble once more, "So you'd have to fly out on Friday, at the latest. If that's ok with you, I mean. Everyone wants to see you again. Especially us, talking to you through the computer just isn't the same as seeing you face to face!"

Huey nodded, writing down the details of the flight his friends had already bought him in advance (though he insisted in paying them back as soon as he reached Woodcrest), not allowing himself to say any more in the worry that he may come out with too much too late. The three friends had said their goodbyes and the mocha skinned man had closed his laptop, leaning back in his office chair as the creature growled in the pit of his stomach, hungry for more.

Choosing to ignore the anger that swooped in his gut, Huey chose to crash onto his bed, gazing longingly out of the bedroom windows that looked down upon the river Thames. He had left Woodcrest for many reasons when he was in his early twenties, but mostly it was because of the accident. If that had not occurred, then he possibly would have still been together with Jazmine, and he would still be in America. Heck, he could've have been the one to marry her, that was what was causing him the most pain. Seeing his best friend and the only love of his life fall in love, and not even realise how much the situation was hurting him. He almost felt guilty, because they weren't doing it out of spite. Caesar and Jazmine were simply in love.

He was often asked, he noted as he stared at the gaggle of geese that swarmed past his window, why he had left Woodcrest in the first place. He only used one excuse, the accident, and would leave it at that. No more questions were answered, and no more was said. Huey couldn't bear it. He had never thought of the accident once in the past few years, and he wasn't going to start now. He couldn't face that, on top of this new dilemma. He couldn't fall into the trap of thinking about the accident again, of wishing he could have done things differently. The accident had changed him.

The accident that killed his


	2. The Accident that Ruined us All

As I said dudes, more reviews=more story! So keep going! I was soooo pleased with the first 3, you guys are so sweet :) Hopefully your questions will be answered here;) But we're far from the end, I promise you. Here's to the continuation of this story!:D I hope you like it, not as pleased with this chapter as my last one but…enjoy:)

Forces of Nature- Part 2

The accident that killed his brother.

Huey daren't think about it. The memories of that fateful evening had not surfaced for many years, and the young man didn't want to begin to relive that disastrous time. It had been five years since that night, and he still found he was struggling to overcome the aftermath. He knew he couldn't put it off forever…but he had more important things to concentrate on now.

Like Caesar and Jazmine's wedding.

When the African- American man had been transferred to England, he had been surprised by the appearance of his new boss. Huey had made it a rule when he was a child that he would never, not in a million years, ever work under a white man. But, after a grudgingly long time filled with frequent trademark frowns, the Chicagoan came to realise that, perhaps, Mr. Lewis was alright-for a white man.

He had been the first person Huey had made contact with after the webcam chat from his friends in America. His pre-booked ticket had been bought for Wednesday evening, giving him just enough time to recover from the premonitioned jet-lag before having to slip back into time with his close friends that he had been away from for so long. Luckily for him, there wasn't an important case ongoing at that particular moment, so his boss found no problem with him voyaging back to Woodcrest for a few weeks. He seemed to understand the situation within the first few words that were uttered from the revoutionist's mouth, to which Huey would be ever-grateful for.

He had begun packing on that late Monday afternoon, flinging any old item into his suitcase without a second thought. This proved to be a bad move on his part, however, as when inspecting the contents of his case, he had found a pair of flip-flops, old trousers, faded shirts and a wide variety of socks, all of which had holes in. Struggling to come to terms with his unusual absent-minded approach to life, Huey repacked his clothes in a more sensible manner, before tossing himself down upon the fawn quilt of his king-size bed.

It wasn't true, the stereotypical idea most had that it rained constantly in Britain. Huey hadn't seen a full week of rain in the past three months of summer, the days of which had all been stiflingly hot. The cool, azure sky of that morning had been replaced with a truly breath-taking sunset, a kaleidoscope of ruby, amber, saffron and mulberry. The violet clouds were billowing past the wall-covered windows at snail-pace, each distorting like exotic dancers in the gentle breeze. Jazmine had loved sunsets; so Huey had come to love them too.

No matter how hard he tried, ever since the call from his close friends, the mocha skinned man had not been able to shake visions of the mulatto woman from his mind. He could simply not explain it, he _knew_ Jazmine was too far out of reach for even the slightest of chances, like a tail-less kite in a ferocious wind, heading in any direction apart from his. It was an emotion that had been supressed for so long, it could not be contained any longer, and it had burst forth so violently, Huey could not concentrate on anything else. All he could think about was her smile, the way her eyes sparkled with hope when she looked at him, her beautiful, careless attitude, the way her body moved under his…

Those were the worst. The memories of their first time; because Huey knew they would haunt him for the rest of Jazmine and Caesar's married life. How was he expected to act like everything was perfect, when he could not forget the best night of his life? The only night he was willing to remember.

And then the accident. The ending of all that Huey held dear. Not just his brother, but his girlfriend too. One fateful move, and his life had been ruined that something that should not have been his fault. Something that was not his fault. Something that, somehow, he was given the blame for. And he could never forgive himself. Ever.

_August 17__th__ 2016_

It was the day after his and Jazmine's first ever fight. It had been over something ridiculous, like innocent different views on beliefs, but it had still caused Huey to be ignored by his girlfriend for at least six hours. And forty-nine minutes; he had counted them all, each and every one. They had, of course, made up, when Jazmine rocketed along the mound of the grassy hill, her eyes brimming with tears and guilt. Huey, naturally, had at first been confused, as the argument had been equally his fault. For a slow moment, he believed there was the possibility that someone had hurt Jazmine, and he was working himself up to get his own back for anyone laying a fingertip on his girlfriend. Luckily, that wasn't the case.

"Huey!"

The dark-skinned teenager directed his mahogany gaze to one side lazily, resting contentedly against the trunk of the aging tree in a rather meditated fashion.

"Huey I'm sorry!"

Jazmine burst into view, her violent ginger curls contorting as she ran, salty tears streaming down her cheeks. Huey noted she was in her pyjamas, which he believed was rather odd attire for that time and place, even for Jazmine.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to yell and-"

Her words all blurred into a string of hysterical cries as she crashed down alongside her boyfriend, burying her face pitifully into her slim palms as she sobbed dramatically.

"Jazmine. Jazmine….Jazmine listen to me!"

The teenage girl looked startled, like a deer caught in the headlights, and Huey cupped her chin ever-so slightly with his fingertips, nudging her beautiful face to be level with his. He was never one for apologies, and even though his girlfriend had managed to wear him down over the years, it was still a matter he struggled profusely with. Instead of searching for the right words to comfort the miserable Jazmine, Huey leant in and close the gap between him and his girlfriend, brushing his lips against hers as he satisfied the ache in his chest.

When the couple gasped for air, his wine eyes met her emerald, and he managed to produce one of his almost extinct lopsided smiles,

"Me too."

They had spent the rest of that peaceful evening together, a top the hill, Jazmine huddled up inside his cadmium green fleeced jacket. The young revolutionary felt her warm head nuzzle its way onto his shoulder, their hands interlocking instantly. The moment had been perfect, the two just comfortable in each other's company, no words needing to be spoken. They had grown to the level where words were unable to describe how they felt to one another, actions speaking louder. The calm of the air was almost bizarre. Too bizarre.

Until the explosion happened.

Huey, strangely enough, had felt it coming. Moments before, the hairs on the back of his neck had regimented, a tsunami of a shiver washing down his spine. He had wanted to put it off as the cool weather, but for mid-August, this was hardly an acceptable excuse. And then there was the explosion.

The sheer sound of the eruption was enough to wake Jazmine from her soothed slumber on Huey's lap, let alone the shock waves that rippled from its core to where the couple were snuggled in the nook of the willow tree, the strained grass around them bending as if under a raging breeze. The sight, however, was nothing compared. Huey could only assume that the explosion was a few miles away, but it sure seemed a lot closer. A billowing cloud of choking smoke burst into the sky, followed at its heels by a roar of fire, so immense that Huey was sure he could smell it from their spot.

The couple stared on in horror as a segment of the state, possibly just on the outskirts of Woodcrest, went up in smoke. They could only haul to their feet and gape at the horror unfolding before them, watching as the fire engines and Police closed in. As they tore down the hill to their homes, Huey could not shake off the feeling that something was not right. He couldn't understand it, but there was _something_ wrong. Way worse than the explosion. But what was it?

Inside the Freeman household, Huey's grandfather was watching the news, his eyes glued to the screen like a child to a sweetshop. It was not often that Robert Freeman chose to willingly watch such programmes, but at times like this where issues were just a few miles away, Huey supposed he made an exception.

"_Several cars were found abandoned nearby the scene of the explosion on the outskirts of Woodcrest, informers report,"_ The newsreader commented, "_We would like everyone to remain calm and stay away from the area as we go to our local reporter."_

Huey halted in his tracks when the image of the scene flashed upon the screen, frozen to the spot. There was reason for the feeling prior to the event. It had been a warning. And he should have listened.

"_I'm here at the scene of the explosion just outside Woodcrest, where Paramedics are recovering several bodies. There have been not set reports yet but-" _ The reporter was handed something indistinguishable to the millions of watchers, and he began to read from the seemingly chicken-scratch note, "_Hang on. It says here that…seven bodies have been recovered from the scene. Two more have been seriously injured, and we can now release the information that this was in fact a result of gang violence. Going by witness reports, we can conclude that two groups of five men in their teens and early twenties were seen firing at one another. The explosion was from a small bomb set off by one of the gang members, however it would appear that there is a final member still missing-"_

Gang violence. That was it.

Riley Freeman had joined a gang (they went by the name of Phoenix, which Huey immediately disapproved of) several months previously, much to his brother's anger. Huey had tried everything and anything to prove to his younger sibling of the dangers that were involved in his idealised "gangsta" lifestyle, and that it wasn't all what is shown on television. Of course, the stubborn cornrowed Riley held his ground and ignored each and every one of his brother's wise words. His grades (though not so high in the first place) dropped, he was out at all hours, and when he was home he was hardly in good shape. He was merely the shadow of the Riley Freeman that Huey had once known.

That morning, when Huey had been sulking over the fight between himself and his girlfriend, Riley had tried to tell him something. But his patience had not been up to its usual standards, and tired of never being listened to himself, Huey promptly ignored his little brother, choosing to pour over his book instead. After several failed attempts of gaining his brother's attention, Riley had given up hope and stormed out of the house, yelling all sorts of foul words behind his back, of which bounced off Huey like a softball and were soon forgotten. Except for one, that had stuck in his mind for some reason or another.

"You'll be sorry, nigga!"

If only he had paid attention.

The identities of the nine men had been located rapidly, and to both Huey and his grandfather's despair, none of which matched Riley's description. He was placed on the missing person's list, and was soon given up on by the Police, who had much bigger problems to deal with in comparison to a troubled youth. Riley Freeman was never found, and so pronounced dead in the year 2020, though his death had seemed apparent way before.

Huey had not left the house for months after the ordeal, and he had made contact with no one. It was in this period, he assumed, where Jazmine ran to Caesar for guidance and comfort, and probably where the dreadlocked boy seized the chance he never thought he would have. And now it would be a chance Huey could never regain. Because of one, lone accident, Huey had lost both his little brother and his girlfriend, two of the three people he only really felt he could ever love. And then he was alone.

_Present day_

It came as a shock to the African-American man when Wednesday rolled around. The time had flown by so suddenly, he wasn't sure if he could face his friends in such a predicament. But, as usual, the confident Huey stepped up and took himself by the shoulders and shook himself hard, lecturing him for being such an insecure idiot. His best friends were getting married. They were going to be happy, and if that would be as close to happiness as he would ever feel, then so be it.

The mocha skinned man got dressed in such a flustered rush, it took him a while to realise he had put his socks on his hands and his trousers on backwards, and took him a few moments to sort himself out. This unusual sway in personality was foreign and unbalancing to him, and he didn't know how much more of this intense nervousness he could take. With his case packed, boarding ticket and passport stowed away safely in the hidden pocket of his jacket, Huey found himself pacing awkwardly around his cosy apartment, pondering the thought of seeing his friends for the first time in almost a year. He was going to be honest- it was scaring the shit out of him.

He just couldn't estimate how he was going to feel, seeing Jazmine and Caesar together .day; in their own private bubble of happiness, looking forward to the future. What did he have to look forward to? A life of work and loneliness. At least he would get to appreciate the mixed-race girl's gorgeous face in person.

A taxi arrived for him promptly, and he reached Heathrow airport all too soon for him to be comfortable. Everything went as smoothly as could be expected, and by nine that evening, he was resting in a stiff plastic chair with a book by one of his many favourite African-American authors, awkwardly hanging around in departures. By this time, he was desperate to simply get onto the plane and relax, possibly going over old case notes or by finishing the latest novel he had clutched in his fingertips. Either way, he needed to distract himself, before he went crazy with nerves.

Huey found that, amazingly, he slept through the majority of the plane journey. At first, paranoia set in and he had to manically check his hand luggage in the chance of someone possibly planting a bomb on him (these strangers could know anything about him), but that fear diminished pretty quickly and he was left to almost enjoy the flight, burying himself contentedly into a novel. Luckily for him, he had the two seats all to himself, which he assumed had been planned by Casesar, who understood his exasperation of the ignorant who often travelled by plane. He just didn't have time for such people.

When the plane landed in America, it was a bright and sunny 3 pm, as noted by the monotone captain, and Huey carefully made sure he was the last out of the machine. He was trying to drag out the time taken to meet his friends for as long as possible, even ridiculously so. He was practically pushed out of the plane, and when it came to collecting his luggage, he casually leant against one wall and watched his bag revolve for a few cycles before deciding that he was being stupid and only delaying the inevitable.

Whether he liked it or not, his two best friends were going to be waiting for him, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Sure enough, as he reluctantly dragged his case along yet another linoleum peeling hallway, Huey spied a chocolate skinned, Dreadlocked man talking intently to a mulatto woman with cinnamon corkscrew curls. His breath hitched in his throat, and Huey stopped dead in his tracks, causing a general amount of mutterings from other blocked arrivals. He couldn't do this. He couldn't do it. He couldn't be around them when they were like this. He looked for a way out desperately, plans forming radically in his head.

He could say he was delayed. The taxi was late, the plane engine broke down. There was a hurricane, a tsunami, _anything_. The ideas became more and more impossible as he worked himself up even more, and then, just as he was about to turn sharply on his heels and make a break for the exit, the mulatto young woman glanced in his general direction and rushed towards him , causing the man beside her to follow her gaze in a perplexed manner.

"Huey!"


	3. Returning to Woodcrest

Hope you guys like this:) I'm updating fairly regularly for you all, which I think is very nice of me:P But it'd be nicer if you could bother to review this, you know:/ I know a lot of you read this so it'd be lovely for you to drop a review or two:) they don't have to be big critiques, reviews big and small are appreciated here:) Well enjoy anyway! Longest chapter yet.

Forces of Nature 3

Huey found himself rooted to the spot as the cinnamon haired, honey skinned Jazmine Dubois rushed towards him in a whirl of energy, flinging her arms tight around his neck as she hauled him in for a hug.

"I've missed you _so_ much Huey! It's been almost a _year_!"

So someone had missed him.

Huey, despite all screeching complaints from his brain, followed his heart and tried to look casual as he slipped his arms around the skinny girl he cared for more than anything, breathing in her sickly sweet scent of jasmines and wondered how he could have ever thought of leaving her. As he dipped his face into the curve of her shoulder blade for a fraction of a moment, he drank in her smell that haunted him wherever he went, and soon found himself forgetting what exactly he was doing there.

"Hey Big Huey!"

And there it was. The ever-looming greeting from Caesar. The one person who, unknowingly, was slowly ripping Huey's heart to shreds like paper in a machine. The African-American mad was forced to release the beautiful Jazmine from his gentle grasp and step back, straightening out his shirt slightly and praying the creeping blush that had formed on his cheeks was hardly noticeable. The prayer worked on his best friend who, unexpectedly, tugged Huey into a rib-crushing hug that really rather surprised the young revolutionary.

"We all missed you man, not just Jazzy."

Huey patted the Brooklyn man's back awkwardly, unsure of how to reply and so busied himself with the fraying handle of his suitcase. The couple, luckily, did not appear to notice his confused emotions, however, and continued to talk rapidly of their plans as they practically skipped towards their car, Huey trailing at their heels.

"We thought it'd be cool if you stayed with us 'till the wedding Huey. I mean you _could_ go back to your old apartment but it's been dead for months so I figured it'd be super gross," Jazmine pulled a face, clambering into the passenger seat of the car as Huey negotiated with Caesar as to who chucked his suitcase in the boot, "And you get to be with us like, all the time! We'll have two whole weeks to catch up, isn't it great?"

Two whole weeks in Jazmine and Caesar's house? Being around his ex-girlfriend _every single day_, in the bedroom just next to theirs… He couldn't do it. He simply couldn't. His heart was pounding like he'd just completed a marathon at the simple thought of being in the same _neighbourhood_ as the mulatto girl, let alone the same house. _No_, he had to stop this. His friends were offering him a place to stay out of a selfless gesture of kindness, he could hardly turn them down. His apartment probably was absolutely disgusting (he didn't want to think about the full mug of tea he had left on the worktop as he left for London ten months ago), and anyway, maybe staying in the same home as Jazmine for two weeks would be annoying enough to put him off her for life.

"Yeah, great."

He had never doubted himself more.

Halfway into the journey, Huey all too soon noticed they were driving through the scene of "the accident" from seven years previously. Caesar was humming, and Jazmine was still chirruping away about small matters in life that Huey did not care about. They both seemed so…so _relaxed _about passing through his area. Did the events of that day not affect them at all? Not even in the slightest? Did they simply not care? Or was it him who cared far too much?

The couple never noticed Huey's tensed frame, and the sun-kissed young woman contorted in her seat to speak with her best friend face to face, forcing him to listen to her tales of all he had missed out on. When they had finally reached the small two-srotey home the duo owned, Huey was suitably bored by Jazmine's clear recollection of the past year…but even so, he could not stop looking at her. Maybe he just needed to give it a while.

The house, he soon recognised, was the one that Caesar had bought during the last term of University back when they were twenty two. Huey had been inside many a time, but he couldn't recall Jazmine ever moving in. The event must have occurred when he left for London…or perhaps before. Those few months were hazy in his mind, and just trying to remember precisely what happened gave him a severe headache. As he stepped inside, he was attacked with a burst of bright colours, and quickly noted that on her arrival, Jazmine must have redecorated.

"Oh, yeah, you'll get used to that," Caesar grinned as the revolutionary as he blinked at the startling shade of ruby in the modest hallway, "Give it a few years."

Huey made a non-committal grunt in reply, and followed Jazmine's corkscrew curls as she danced up the teal carpeted stairs and along a cream corridor, finally halting at the third door on the left.

"Here's you! Hope you like it Huey, it's just the guest room but Caesar reckoned you'd like it."

As she thrust open the door, Huey braced himself for another rainbow explosion and pondered how he would ever get to sleep surrounded by such alarming colours, and stepped inside to be, honestly, wonderfully surprised. The shag carpet was of a soft fawn, with matching curtains and ivory walls. There was a beige wardrobe slanted casually into a corner, and a king-sized bed at the centre of it all, a chocolate rug at its foot.

"So, do you like it?"

The mocha skinned man gazed to one side to see Jazmine's emerald eyes boring into his, full of hope and uncertainty. He crashed onto the mattress alongside her and attempted to detract his vision elsewhere, nodding silently. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the mulatto woman beam a Cheshire cat grin as she flung her arms tight around him, breathing into his ear.

"I'm so glad you're here, Huey."

Deciding the floor was the best place to look, Huey stifled a smile as he relaxed into the embrace.

So was he.

_October 19__th__ 2016_

_Huey leant against the wood of his bedframe silently, tossing his phone between his nimble hands. It had been over two months since "the accident", two months since his brother had gone missing, and therefore, two months since he had last seen his girlfriend. Jazmine had bothered to try to contact him for the first few weeks, knocking on his door and sending him dozens of text messages, to which Huey had never got around to replying. They wouldn't bring his little brother back; that was the mindframe he had been set in ever since "the accident" occurred. _

_He had spent the first month desperately searching for Riley Freeman everywhere, notices, missing peoples list, homeless shelters, prison, the internet; you name it, he'd searched it. And there was no trace. No fucking trace of his little brother to be found. But he couldn't give up yet, not yet. _

_It was almost Huey's seventeenth birthday, and he was deciding whether to finally gather the courage to speak to his girlfriend. He did admit, he felt badly about the way he had treated her the last couple of months, and he was determined to make it up to her as soon as physically possible. Acting upon this decision, the teenager grasped at his mobile and sent a short text to his girlfriend, hoping that would be enough to convince her to see him._

Going to the hill. See you there?

_There was a rather pregnant pause filled with the sheer tension of waiting for his girlfriend to acknowledge his existence, before he was granted with a reply._

Of course I'll be there:) xxx

_A smile threatened to rise up and surface his face as Huey read and re-read the last message, hauling himself from his bed as he inwardly beamed with the chance that his girlfriend hadn't given up on him after all this time. Tugging on his dusted Converses, the African-American hurtled out of the room he had hardly left for weeks and jogged downstairs to the front door, bursting with anticipation to see his girlfriend at last. He found himself running towards the hill, deciding upon the correct way to apologise time and time again in his head as he went. _

_As he made his way steadily through the teasing grass, Huey began to make out the tight curls of golden hair that belonged to his self-conscious girlfriend, and so began with his apology, knowing she could hear._

"_**Look, Jazmine. I know I've treated you terribly these last months and I know I've been a shit excuse for a boyfriend. So, I was hoping we could try again? You know, give it a second go-"**_

_Reaching the height of the hill, Huey froze in his tracks in pure horror as he looked down upon the scene that was unfolding before his very eyes. Jazmine Dubois was indeed here, at the top of the hill. But she wasn't alone._

_The mass of dark dreadlocks were the sole distinguishable item that made Huey aware exactly who was sitting with Jazmine…if you could call it sitting. The rest of the boy's features were buried behind the honey frizz of the girl's hair, and as his hands slid lower down Jazmine's waist, the teenage girl seemed to notice they weren't alone, and glanced to her left, breaking the intimate kiss. She stared at the young revolutionist, now clearly her ex-boyfriend, and though his hunched frame gave nothing away, she could see his heart breaking in two in his maroon eyes._

"_**Huey, I-"**_

_Words began to tumble from her mouth, crushing themselves together and mixing into a haze of emotions that the teenage boy could not begin to pick apart. He could only look from the mulatto's face to Caesar's and back again, before turning away from the horrendous sight and making his way back down the hill, wondering why he had even bothered. Jazmine didn't care about him and his emotions; no one did. She only cared about herself._

_Months of ignored phonecalls, texts and blank stares passed before Huey could ever look the mulatto girl in the eye again. He knew she was sorry, and he understood Caesar was too. He was trying to forgive them, but deep down, in the pit of his stomach where the lair of the monster grew, he knew that really, he never would._

Huey arose from his slumber in a state of shock, his breathing haphazard and heavy as he struggled to take in his surroundings. It was still light outside, and judging by the alarm clock on the bedside table, he hadn't been asleep for too long. A note was plastered to the bare pillow at his side, and as he staggered into a sitting position, he began to read.

_Evening sleeping beauty!  
>Caesar and I have just gone to sort out the reception for the wedding, we shouldn't be gone too long. Why don't you have a look round while we're out? I bet everyone really wants to see you again!<br>See you when we get back,  
>Jazmine<br>xXx_

Huey stared at his ex-girlfriend's elegant scrawl before slipping the paper into his the hidden pocket in the lining of his fleeced jacket, rising up off the bed. He shot himself a quick glance in the mirror on his way out of the bedroom, and found he couldn't really be bothered to do anything with his untameable afro, choosing to pad around his new home for the two weeks instead. Someone had taken his shoes off, presumably when he was asleep, and he began to ponder as to where they might have gone as he came to a halt at the door directly beside his.

He knew he shouldn't really go into Jazmine and Caesar's bedroom; he didn't want to invade their privacy. But, his heart pointed out as his fingers brushed the doorknob, it wasn't like he was going to look through their things. He just wanted a quick peek, and that was all.

_Two minutes._

His brain grudgingly agreed with his hear as he pushed the door open gently, as though making any noise would alert his best friends several miles away. The first thing Huey noticed bout the bedroom, was the fact it smelt _heavily_ of jasmines. It was like wading through a thick fog, the scent was so intense. Huey could remember, in one of their ancient, intense moments that probably only he remembered, Jazmine had informed him of how her mother had always liked the idea of her daughter smelling of the flower she was named after, and that it had become her almost trademark perfume ever since.

Unbeknownst to anyone except himself, Huey actually had in his possession one of these perfume bottles. It was small and round, a perfect sphere, filled to the brim with a translucent saffron liquid, and something the revolutionist had picked up after Jazmine stayed the night at his house and promptly forgot. If ever he was carrying a bag (which was most of the time for his work), the bottle went with him. No matter where he was, Huey realised he would never quite be able to get rid of his ex-girlfriend.

The couple's bedroom was a mixture of lime and foaming whites, and the mocha skinned man only allowed himself to linger for a moment before closing the door firmly behind himself and trotting down the stairs. He soon found his way into a lemon and azure tiled kitchen (two colours that oddly worked well together) that led into an open-plan poppy and coal black living room. Not particularly feeling up to reuniting with old friends and family, Huey tossed himself down onto the ruby sofa and leant against the armrest, taking in the many photographs of the happy couple that positioned themselves around the walls.

He felt sick.

A sudden buzz in his pocket saved him, and Huey dug around for his phone urgently, answering the call at the last minute.

"Hello?"

"Huey!" The voice was deep, familiar, and didn't take the man long to recognise it as the tone of his American boss, "I heard you were back in the States!"

"Only just, Mike."

"Well it's good to have you here. Now, I know it's not the best time, and you'll probably want to be spending these two weeks with your friends, but we've come up with a gem of a case and I think you'll be interested."

"Go on." Huey prompted-he needed as much as possible to keep himself busy, he couldn't risk falling for the mulatto girl his was sharing a home with even deeper.

"Well, it's nothing big, I'll say, but it damn well is interesting," The man on the phone paused almost for effect, a habit he did often and to which Huey had grown used to, "We shouldn't really discuss more here though. Meet me in my office in, say, thirty minutes?"

"Make that ten."

The young revolutionist said his goodbyes and flung himself from the sofa, scrabbling around the lower level of the house to find his shoes. A new case, no matter how small, always lifted his spirits; he felt like a child in a sweetshop, he simply couldn't help it. Think of it as one more step to saving the world, that was the motto he lived by. And saving the world was always at the top of his list of priorities.

Scuffing his way out of the door, Huey pressed a hastily scrawled note into the ornate frame of the hall mirror, desperate to reach the time limit he had set himself. Having no car (Jazmine and Caesar seemingly shared, and his own car was a good walk away in his grandfather's garage) the man was forced to hail a cab, and soon found himself speeding in the general direction of his old workplace, the "secret" headquarters of his particular detective agency that resided on the very outskirts of Woodcrest. After paying his face, the mocha skinned man darted inside the modern, mostly glass building that curved and arced into the sky in the impression of a wave. It was nothing compared to the offices he had worked in during his stay in London, but he had missed it all the same.

After greeting the receptionist with an almost friendly wave, Huey made his way in the lift to the top floor, where of course, his boss' office was located. Mike Hoffman was the man who owned the building (possibly the only building in town not owned by Ed Wuncler), but not only that, he was the agencies _best_ detective by far. And therefore, he was one of the rare people Huey Freeman actually admired and looked up to.

Exactly on time, the African-American skated to the glinting silver doors and knocked hesitantly, before allowing himself inside. His boss was at his usual position; hovering behind his many computers as he beckoned the man forth with a wave of his hand, flicking through information on the multiple screens.

"Glad you could make it, Huey."

"No trouble at all."

Huey slid around the edge of the metal desk that glimmered in the early evening sunlight to stand alongside his boss, watching him look up the correct information curiously.

"Hold on…here."

Mike beamed proudly and stood back to grant Huey the entire view of the main computer, in which held a clear photograph of a man. The person in the image was possibly in his early twenties, most definitely not any older. His skin was of a caressing shade of coffee, eyes hidden behind over-sized dark frames and his chocolate brown hair tugged back into rough cornrows that finished at his shoulder blades, the edges of which seemed brash, as though the lengths of which had been slashed off in a rush. The figure was dressed in a full bodied dark coat and slate shaded boots, attire of which did not seem unusual for snowy weather, which appeared also in the photograph.

In fact, Huey could not find anything usual or remarkable about the image at all. It was simply a man in a coat in the cold. How could a case arise about such a person?

"Now, I know what you're thinking, Huey," Mike interrupted his ponderings, "He looks like an average-Joe, I get that. But he's not. He's no terrorist, he's no government hacker. But there is something."

Huey cocked an eyebrow and leant against one of the glass windows, awaiting the continuation of the explanation for this apparent waste of time.

"There's no record of him. Anywhere. We have no birth records, no next of kin, not known family, no education_, not a single thing_. When asked for his name and date of birth, the two did not add up. His life is a web of lies that had surrounded him in mystery for so long, and your job, Huey, is to untangle this web."

Feeling slightly intruiged by this point, Huey nodded and leant forward to drink in the image of the seemingly innocent man who was lurking in the snow.

"What's his name? Or do you not even know that."

His retort came out more blunt than he had intended, but his boss knew him all too well and gave a little twinkle in his eye at the question.

"It's Lawrence Escobar."

Now, dear readers, why does that name seem familiar? ;)

Link up the clues and you'll see ;) See ya'll next time!


	4. The Mystery Unfolds

More reviews=More story! Guys I would absolutely love some more comments please:) I really need them to boost my confidence….this is my longest chapter yet:D And so important it is….Hope you enjoy! I know I loved writing it:) And also, I update pretty damn regularly, so keep checking back cos I love this story:)

Force of Nature- 4

"Lawrence Escobar."

Upon hearing the name, Huey faltered. Why did it sound so familiar to him? He traipsed through bundles of memories and many nuggets of information in his mind, but he could still not place a finger upon the notion.

"Mike," The African-American began hesitantly, struggling to form the correct words, "This man, I don't have any connections to him, do I?"

"Not that we know of," His boss frowned, his forehead creasing ever so slightly, "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Huey shook his head, wondering why he was becoming so perplexed over the matter, "The name just seems familiar, that's all."

It came to him eventually, of course. As they were going through the documents and paper work he was going to be reading through back at his friends' house (though there wasn't much to go on), the revolutionist realised why the name appeared to be so familiar to him. Lawrence; Lawrence Freeman. It had been his father's name. Somehow, to Huey, that did not appear to be the entirety to the mystery, however he allowed himself to dwell on the idea no longer, and instead forced himself to concentrate solely on the case at hand.

When he reached the house that belonged to his best friends, Huey let himself inside and was slightly surprised to find neither Jazmine nor Caesar home. He hadn't assumed that planning the reception would take almost three hours, but to be perfectly honest, he did not mind having the house to himself for a short while. Even so, he felt ever so slightly like an intruder, and found himself only comfortable with working on the bed in his room, as there was no desk or such piece of furniture to lean on.

Huey bent over the information that was splayed out before him curiously. There were several bank documents, copies of signatures, fingerprints, information about the man's supposed pastimes, concluded from CCTV and other such findings. There were receipts, documents about where he lived, and the single photograph of the mysterious man ushered into the centre, the only piece of information about this man that Huey found completely useful. There were no known relatives, friends, connections, hospital documents, educational information, _anything_, that would lead him to understand this man. There was so little to go on, in fact, he did wonder what the point of it all was.

But even so, he was intrigued.

Just _why_ would a man go to such lengths to be under the general radar? Surely that was cause enough to arouse suspicion. It seemed so for Huey's boss, at any rate. The mocha skinned man loomed over the scraps of information like a king over his kingdom, dragging his whining laptop towards him across the bedcovers. Something about this man did not add up, and no matter how long it took him, he was determined to get to the bottom of the cause.

Even though he was sure his work colleagues had tried everything already, Huey launched a search on the internet and tried entering the man's name into Google. Several pieces of data came up, social networking sites and such things Huey had no time nor patience for, but none of which matched the Lawrence Escobar he was searching for. This man certainly was making it difficult for even Huey to trace him, and the young man became so absorbed with his work, he didn't even hear his best friends return to the house.

"Hey there, Huey."

The Chicagoan managed to drag his eyesight away from his work for a few moments to see Caesar's dreadlocks tumbling over his shoulders and his best friend examined the information Huey was struggling t deal with.

"Jesus man, don't you ever take a break?"

"I needed to keep myself occupied."

Huey retorted flatly, shifting the scraps of paper around on the beige duvet awkwardly, hoping his friend would let it be and go back to Jazmine. His wishes, of course, fell on deaf ears, and Caesar leant closer to study the data presented before him.

"Lawrence Escobar?...Odd."

The young man glanced up at his best friend, who's gentle face was twisted into a slight frown as he read and re-read the name on the screen that blared into the dim light.

"How's it odd? Do you know something?"

Huey asked sharply, trying not to sound too eager, and Caesar merely shook his head, straightening back up to his full height as he brushed a couple of stray dreads from his face lazily,

"Nah. It's nothing man, I just…"

His words faded away once more, and Huey found himself becoming increasingly irritated by his friend's inability to string a whole sentence together.

"Caez, do you know something or not?"

"No," Caesar stated flatly, though he seemed unsure by his slow answer, "It's nothing, I'm mistaken. Jazmine wanted me to tell ya that dinner's gonna be ready soon so, you know, come down whenever you want. She really wants you to feel welcome, Huey."

"I do, honest Caez," Huey wondered how many more lies it would take for Caesar to break past his shell and see the obvious truth, "I really do."

_July 23__rd__ 2016_

_Huey lay blindingly awake in bed, staring hard at the ceiling. A frown was plastered straight across his forehead, and his ears strained for any chance of sound at all, a sound to reassure him that all was right in the world. The digital alarm clock to his side blazed fluorescent numbers into his bedroom, alerting him that it was almost three in the morning. Almost three o'clock, and when he grudgingly rolled over to face the door of the room, he noted that his little brother was still not home. _

_Three or four months previously, Huey did not like to keep count, Riley Freeman had joined a gang. They called themselves "Phoenix," a rather ridiculous name for a gang, in Huey's opinion (though he thought gangs were ridiculous no matter of the name). He had been threatening his brother with the notion for weeks, and no matter how hard Huey tried, no matter what he said, his stubborn sibling would simply not pay attention. As soon as he joined the notorious gang, the young revolutionary had never heard the end of it. His brother was constantly boasting about the latest bank robbery or gunfight, in fact the only times Huey had not been aware of his brother's stupidity was when he was asleep._

_As the summer had continued, Riley had become more and more encouraged by his own power, turning into someone that Huey hardly wanted to be seen in the same school with, let alone as a brother. The once quite kindly Riley Freeman had changed into a bully, and not the playground type either. He was so heavily influenced by the people around him, which happened to mostly be gang members, that ideas and notions were forced into his innocent head and twisted into something that was passed off as acceptable. There was many a time when Riley, though smaller than his brother, would thrust Huey up against a wall and hold a loaded gun to his head, demanding one thing or another. The elder Freeman brother could easily brush his brother off like a fly without himself gaining a scratch, but that was not the problem. The problem, indeed, was the sudden attitude change of Riley Freeman, and what Huey could possibly do to save his brother from himself. _

_Relatively soon, Riley's school grades began to drop so low, they could not even be credited as the work of an intelligent fourteen year old boy. He skipped school so often, he probably missed an entire term of work. He was out at all hours, and though at first he believed wholly that he was living the life, Huey knew that his little brother was going to soon crash down so low, there would be no hope for him. And, as usual, Huey's predictions became truth. Riley would turn up at home like a soldier fresh from the battlefield, bruised and bleeding, with no hope of escape. He soon became the mere shadow, if that, of the Riley Freeman his older brother knew and loved, and there seemed no end to it._

_Huey sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a fraction of a moment, pondering over whether to cease worrying over his lost cause of a brother and get some sleep he readily deserved. He was so tempted, his brain certainly didn't have any more patience enough to stay awake, but Huey, and not for the first time either, listened to his heart, and forced himself to painfully stay awake. He had to be sure that his brother was safe, otherwise, he would only have himself to blame._

_By half past three, Huey had almost given up. He was exhausted, and he had a big date with his girlfriend the next day and had to look his best for her (it was their one year anniversary; he didn't want her thinking he had forgotten). Just as he began to roll over into slumber, the sound of the front door creaking ever so slightly alerted his senses, and he glared at his bedroom door, getting ready to scare his brother shitless. He wasn't in the mood to play games. He watched silently as the knob turned, and listened as his little brother attempted to enter the room as silently as possible. _

_As soon as Riley had closed the door and began to limp inside, Huey grabbed for his lamp and sat up as it turned on, an expression of pure rage frozen to his face._

"_**Where the fuck have you been?"**_

_Riley stifled a scream and jumped a mile, not able to make eye contact with his furious older brother._

"_**You do realise I've stayed up all this time waiting for you? I've got so much to do tomorrow, I shouldn't have to wait for your ass to get in here at all fucking times of the night."**_

"_**Nigga, no one made you wait on me. Yo actin' real fucking gay."**_

_Riley clambered into the neighbouring bed, granting Huey a glimpse of a bloodied bandage on his arm before he pulled the duvet over his head and rolled onto his side, allowing his brother only the sight of his back._

"_**I'm not the one acting-"**_

"_**Huey, leave me alone."**_

_That was only the stat of the troubles._

_Present day_

Huey blinked as he was dragged back to life, shaking his head free of old memories. What was wrong with him lately? Sighing impatiently with himself, he closed his laptop that was making noises much like a person suffering an asthma attack, filed away his diminishing pile of documents and made his way downstairs. A strong aroma of something that felt so _wonderfully_ familiar wafted up the stairs, and he inhaled heavily as the scent floated around him. Entering the beautifully tiled kitchen, he walked in upon a slowly unfolding scene that made his heart ache even more.

Jazmine had her cinnamon curls twisted into a messy bun at the back of her head, a few loose coils framing her heat-shaped face beautifully as she prepared the dinner. She was in a large, loose shirt (he presumed it was Caesar's) and denim blue skinny jeans, making Huey desperate to reach out and pull her into an embrace, to tell he how he really felt. And then Caesar came into view, dreadlocks and all, kissing his fiancée on the cheek as he chopped the vegetables and whispering some sweet nonsense into her ear that caused her to giggle.

Huey had been able to do that once.

Forcing back a sigh, the mocha skinned man padded into the kitchen and seated himself at the table, taking in the many photographs that were splashed across the walls. Luckily for him, they were not all of the happy couple; a few had their parents or other family members on, and some were of groups of friends that Huey did not recognise. Everywhere he looked, the revolutionary could see imaged documentation of the couple's lives, from beginning to end, containing everyone and everything they held dear. Caesar said something to his best friend, but the Chicagoan did not hear, because he found himself suddenly drawn to the largest photo of them all, one that was not hung upon a wall, but instead given the place of honour on the kitchen worktop before the window.

He realised all too late that he had instinctively leapt from his seat and been lured towards the photograph, but he soon brushing off any feelings, noting that he simply did not care. There was a reason why he was so beckoned towards the image on the counter, and once he reached it, there was no turning back. The photograph was cool in his hands as he picked it up ever so cautiously, and it looked several years old. He easily identified this, as he featured in this particular image, at the tender age of sixteen. But it wasn't just him.

It was a group shot of five teenagers, of all seemed happy and blissfully aware of the life-wrecking troubles that were soon to come. His younger self was linked casually with Jazmine, who was granting his cheek with a butterfly kiss. Caesar was on his other side, hands slung in his pockets, grinning broadly without a care in the world. There was Cindy also, laughing at something out of the picture, and leaning on the ground against a person who Huey had not seen in such a long time. The youngest boy in the photograph was preserved in the manner that the revolutionist wished to remember him in, simply perfect. He was sprawled casually on the ground and pretending to be annoyed with the girl resting against him, but the sparkle in his eyes gave everything away. Yes, this was the Riley Freeman that the young man preferred to remember, the boy before the gangs, the guns, the violence.

The boy before the accident.

Huey could remember that day perfectly, every detail etched into his memory for the entirety of his life. It had been late spring, and the weather had been perfect; not too hot or too cold, with a gentle breeze to ease everyone's spirits. It was the rarest day in the world, because it had been one in which Huey had smiled the whole time throughout. He had felt like the luckiest person in the world, and could only see things getting better, instead of worse. He could remember the feel of Jazmine's teased hair tickling his skin as she kissed him, the laughter of best friend and the clamouring of his brother. Everything had been perfect, all had been as it should be.

He wished he could turn back time.

"That's my favourite picture too."

A soft voice enchanted Huey back to reality from his dreams, and he looked to one side slowly, noticing Jazmine's skinny frame hunched over the photograph beside him.

"We were all really happy, weren't we? It's the best one of us all together."

Huey did not reply, holding the image in his grip for a fraction too long, and coming to his senses, placed the frame back down onto the worktop and headed back towards his seat, wondering why he was letting everything get to him so suddenly. As soon as he crashed down onto his chair, a plate of steaming hot food was shoved into his face, and he blinked while his two best friends beamed.

"A Huey Freeman favourite."

Caesar grinned, and encouraged his friend to tuck in as Jazmine served the rest of the food. The meal passed with little strained emotions, and Huey found he was quite content just being around the two people who meant the world to him- even if he struggled to show it sometimes. They were, of course, absolutely correct that the meal they had served was his favourite, and he cleaned his plate of it even after having a second helping. The conversation that passed between the trio was light and reasonably airy, and Huey found it rather refreshing in comparison to the heavy work-talk that rolled around when he had a meal with his colleagues back in London. He didn't allow himself to speak much, preferring to listen to his two friends talk about everything and anything they could, and he was surprised they had not lost their voices yet.

The evening passed at a rather reasonable pace, and soon after staying up until all hours to watch ridiculous films and have popcorn throwing competitions, Huey found himself crashing into bed quite content, readying himself for slumber with high prospects for the weeks to come. Perhaps the rest of his stay in Woodcrest would not be so taxing after all?

Huey left the house the next morning before either of his two friends had arisen from their bed. He didn't bother with breakfast, but instead chose to leave another note in the place of the one from the day previously, and headed straight for the outside world. His hours of trailing through seemingly pointless internet searches the previous night had led him somewhere; he had actually gained enough information to learn at least on which street Lawrence Escobar lived. Huey's plan was relatively simple, track down the mystery man, leave a few hidden cameras around when locating his house, and then leaving it up to the CCTV footage to do the rest of the work. As he meandered along the pavement, hoping he was going in the correct direction, Huey cautiously probed for the gun concealed in his pocket. He didn't want to use it, but he had no idea what this kind of man was like, and anyway, it _was_ only a pellet gun. It wouldn't do any serious damage. Probably.

After almost an hour of walking in the early morning sunshine that washed upon him like an elegant bliss, the African-American man found the exact street he was looking for. He knew that Escobar could only possibly live in house numbers between one and ten, and so however simple it did appear, Huey's plan was to honestly, just knock on doors. Most people, normal ones at any rate (in his opinion), would be up by now, and surely neighbours had to know one another in a street such as this ?

The street itself did not appear like the usual habitat for someone being hunted down by his detective agency. It was rather short, lined with identically-cut trees and the houses were all white bricked, with miniature front gardens and steps with iron railings leading up to the brightly coloured front doors. But Huey knew all too well, that looks could be deceiving.

After several attempts that were less than useful, the revolutionary was beginning to think that he may have to come up with a different way to approach this. The families on this particular street appeared to keep themselves to themselves, which he thought was rather isolating, and he heaved a sigh as he leant against one of the trees that shaded him from the everlasting sunshine. Rolling up his sleeves, and wondering what on earth had possessed him to wear such clothes on this kind of hot day, Huey dragged out the notes of information on the very street he was lurking on, deciphering his scrawled handwriting from the night prior.

As he began to form a fresh plan in his head, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, forcing the young man to turn curiously to one side. A coffee-skinned adult was pottering around in the front garden of one of the houses (number eight, he assumed), emptying some rubbish into one of the bins. He looked no older than twenty years of age, his bitter chocolate hair wrenched back into cornrows. He was dressed in baggy jeans that sagged far too low down his legs to be suitable, wearing an oversized, faded shirt above a tighter, drab sienna one. His feet were covered by a pair of French blue Converses that had seen more than their fair days share of work, and a pair of jet sunglasses hid his eyes from view. Huey could hardly begin to believe his luck; here he was, Lawrence Escobar, mere metres away from him.

But how was he to approach this strange man? It was the one fault in the plan that Huey had hoped would come to him naturally, but now he reached the climax of his journey, he struggled to come up with a reasonable idea. Luckily, Fate was on his side, and Escobar dragged one of the reeking bins down the side of an alley located just beside his house. The perfect place to gather the much needed answers. Fingering the pellet gun in his back pocket and praying it would not have to be used, the mocha skinned man followed the unknowing Lawrence into the depths of the alleyway.

Huey wrinkled his nose as the stench of the heated garbage reached his nostrils, and struggled not to cover his mouth with a palm as he stepped deeper into the abyss. Lawrence was humming tunefully, a song Huey did not know, and his back was still turned to the detective. Just as the young revolutionary shifted another pace forward, the cornrowed man snatched at a flash of silver and in an instant, was standing directly opposite Huey, pistol clenched in one hand.

For some reason or another, Escobar seemed startled by his sudden appearance, even though he had been so readily prepared, and this granted Huey just enough time to whip out his own gun, of which he pointed directly at the younger man's head.

"Nigga, what the fuck do yo think yo doin'?"

The duo circled one another until Escobar was standing partially in the full glare of the sunlight, and Huey decided he must be grateful for the sunglasses at times like this.

"I need some answers, and I need them now," The African-American man stated flatly, eyeing the gun that still faltered to be aimed at him, "Don't make me use this."

He wafted his own pistol a little in the air, and the cornrowed man ever so slowly shifted the position of his gun so it was aimed at Huey, egging him on to step closer. To which he did. Huey lured his own weapon closer to the man's head, desperately pleading with himself and his mind to not pull the trigger.

"Nigga it's me, ok? It's me! Don't bring dat thing any closer!"

Huey was surprised at Escobar's nerves, and watched intently as the younger man paced backwards, away from the revolutionist and further into the sunlight.

"What the fuck do you mean?"

Huey demanded, his impatience with Escobar running high. He wasn't sure what was going on, but something deep inside was telling him there had to be more to the situation than this. The same kind of niggling emotion that warned him of his little brother's vanishing, seven years previously. What was going on?

The younger man raised a hand to his face, and Huey felt his clutches on his gun tighten as Lawrence Escobar fumbled for his shades before ripping them from his face, letting them tumble carelessly to the dirtied and cracked ground.

Maroon eyes met maroon, and Huey stared at the younger man before him, emotions raw and open for the whole world to see. Escobar didn't look just nervous; he looked like a deer in the headlights, scared completely shitless as he allowed his pistol to clatter to the tarmacked floor, it's metal casing glinting slyly into the sunlight.

"Don't yo get it nigga? It's me. It's fucking _me_, Huey,"

His hands were shaking like a nervous wreck, and Huey gaped open mouthed as the man before him placed his palms behind his head, almost in surrender,

"It's Riley."

Oh how I love cliff hangers:)

Apologies if this isn't properly closed offfrom the text, I can't figure how to do that. It won't work:/


	5. Family Reunion

Dudes, thanks for the reviews so far:) I _do_ appreciate them, but it would be nice if you could actually _review_ this story. I think we're possibly over halfway through now!:) Hope you guys are enjoying this! Rant totally over now:D Enjoy!:)

Forces of Nature – 5

"It's Riley."

Huey gaped open-mouthed at the young man before him, struggling to comprehend the situation before him. How could he believe what this man was saying? Visualising an image of his brother on the day of "the accident", the mocha-skinned man attempted to connect the two. Sure, their hairstyle was the same, along with their skin and eye colour. Everything, in fact, appeared to scream _Riley, _right down to the boots the man had encasing his feet. But it had been seven whole years; this person, if they were an imposter, had been granted the optimum time to learn the ways and physical form of his little brother.

Huey aimed the gun at the man again, and Riley's eyes widened again as he stared down the barrel of the weapon.

"I said it's me nigga! Why 'aint yous believin' me?"

"Why should I trust you?" The older man cast one of his raging glares enough to send even the toughest of men trembling, not letting the pistol move b even a millimetre, "_My_ brother's been dead for seven fucking years. Give me one good reason why I should believe _you_!"

"Well what the fuck do you want me to say nigga?"

Riley swiped at the gun brashly, attempting to move it from his face, to no avail. The African-American's gaze hardened as he took a step closer, keeping the gun steady in his palms,

"Tell me something only Riley would know."

"Like what nigga?" The younger man looked exasperated, "Like how I would get in yo bed (no homo) when I had those bitchin' nightmares? Or how I still fuckin' wet the bed till I was ten or some shit? Or how's 'bout, that fact that yous saw our parents get shot but you aint tellin' nobody 'cos you aint wanting no fucking pity? How's that?"

Riley finished his wild gesticulations with a heaved pant, trying to wind himself down after his fuelled outburst. Huey, however, did something that he had been least expecting. He moved forward a pace closer, so close Riley could feel his brother's breath on his forehead, close enough to have the barrel of the gun pressed firmly against his skull.

"What the fuck? You bitch ass nigga I proved I'm me! What else do yo fuckin' want to know?"

He winced at the cool metal nudged his crown painstakingly, and found himself drawn to the pure hatred in his older sibling's mahogany eyes. It was like no rage that Riley had ever seen before.

"You left us," Huey spat out each word like they were rotten, anger boiling deep inside him and threatening to break loose, "For seven _fucking_ years. Do you have any idea what you've done to us?"

Riley tensed as the older man's fingertips clenched around the handle of the gun, absolutely sure this was it. He was going to die. He waited for the pull of the trigger, the cry as the pistol was fired, the sensation of the bullet puncturing his skull. But nothing ever came. Instead, there was a strangled yell, and the sound of something solid smashing against a wall. When the cornrowed man eventually opened his maroon eyes, he could only see his brother's hunched figure before him, remains of the gun shattered on the potholed ground.

"Huey, I-"

"Have you _any_ idea what you put us through?"

His brother's tone had calmed down from its raging impression mere seconds earlier, and now seemed to be more one of hurt. Which Riley somehow found made him even more guilty than he had ever felt before.

"Nigga, can we talk somewhere else? I mean, this alley is cool if you like that shit, but it really aint my style."

Huey merely chose to raise an eyebrow, allowing himself to follow his little brother at his heels as they entered the house just alongside the reeking alleyway. Once inside, the older sibling noticed how tidy and very much un-Riley like the interior of the house was. There were no clothes dishevelled on the floor, no ornaments out of place, no crooked picture frames. In fact, the house was so perfectly positioned, it seemed almost fake. To which, Huey now realised, it clearly was. The majority of the walls and floors were shades of blue (Riley's most loved colour), and it made Huey almost feel like he was inside an aquarium. As the older Freeman was gestured to sit at the glass table, Riley moved to paw through his cupboards clumsily.

"What're you doing?"

"Getting food, what does it look like nigga? A nigga gotta eat ya know."

As the cornrowed man began to sift through the plentiful items of food, he decided he wouldn't let himself fall surrender to the ever looming awkward silence, and picked up a can of baked beans in one hand absent mindedly,

"How'd yo find me here, nigga?"

"You're being too obvious."

Huey replied flatly, and Riley turned to face his sibling with an expression of the utmost perplexity,

"Too obvious? Nigga I aint doin' nothin'!"

"Exactly," Huey retorted, fiddling with his mobile on the table top, "You're being too suspicious. FBI agents have started trying to track you. They think you're some kind of undercover terrorist or something along those lines…"

The African-American man trailed off, trying not to give too much information away. As the name suggested, being a secret agent was meant to be kept secret. It was a struggle to keep his entire work life private, so Huey had only let his placement slip to Jazmine and Caesar, the two people he trusted most in the world. He wanted to tell his grandfather, but he wouldn't put it past Robert to say a thing too many to one of his many "cutie pies" in a drunken state. And to be honest, Huey wasn't sure if he could even let his brother in on the notion either.

"Nigga how yo know all this shit? 'Less," He paused for a moment, figuring the situation out, before looking his brother up and down and snorting amusedly, "Yous a secret agent! This is too good nigga!"

"Shut up Riley."

"Is yo workin with yo invisible friend? Is yo ass still being stalked?"

The Chicagoan was practically crying with laughter at this point, struggling to string words together under his snorts, and Huey found himself blurting out the question that had been bugging him the entire time since he had found out that his brother was alive.

"Why did you leave?"

That wiped the smirk off Riley's face.

The younger boy put down the items of food steadily, as though in deep thought, considering his words carefully for perhaps, the first time in his entire life.

"I knew they had that bomb," He stated casually, immediately grasping Huey's attention with his choice words, "That's what I tried to tell yo that mornin'. But you saint up for listenin-"

"You could have stayed home," Huey interrupted suddenly, "You could have not gone."

"Naw man," Riley shook his head, "It wuz blackmail. Reezy tried backin out way before, they got the whole shit planned for months and everythin'! They blackmailed me niggga, they said it wuz either me, or yous and Grandad."

Huey stiffened, taking this new snippet of information in. Riley left that day to _save_ him?

"You did that to save me and Grandad?"

"Well, yeah," Riley shrugged in an almost embarrassed manner at his brother's reaction, "I figured yous had more goin for yous. Like Jazmine an shit. But I aint got nothin' back then, Huey, 'cept for yous and Grandad."

The older brother felt his heart plummet at the thought of Jazmine Dubois, and wondered what his sibling assumed of their current relationship, but before he could even begin to formulate words in his mind, Riley was continuing, like a stopper had been pulled from one part of his memory that had been locked away for so long, and once he started the fountain of words could simply not stop their flow.

"So I left. An nigga, I chickened out. They wuz driving and I realised I didn't wanna kill nobody, so when they left the car with the other one, I got out and ran like fuck. Don't think they saw though, but I heard the bomb go off on the news, you got me? An' someone musta seen me runnin', so I knew I aint goin back home, cuz I get spotted and taken by the Popo, you get me?"

Huey swore, his brother's accent and general use of language became worse by each second of growing nerves, and he became conscious of the fact that he was soon hassling himself to take in his younger sibling's actions.

"So I got on a bus, and waited 'till da last stop. I aint got a fuckin' clue where I wuz, but I gave the driver the paper I had, an' it wuz only when he wuz long gone dat I realised, I aint got a fuckin' clue what I wuz gonna do. I gots a job (it wuz shit) in a shop, an' lived in da flat above. I saved up for years 'till I could get outta that shithole."

"We would've helped Riley," Huey rested his head on his palm as he used his elbows to prop himself up on the table, "We're family. You could have called us."

The Chicagoan boy let a glimmer of sadness flicker across his wine tinted eyes before replying simply,

"I did, nigga."

_January 17__th__ 2017_

_!_

_!_

Huey leapt from his bed suddenly, jolted back to reality from the depths of his novel by the squealing of the telephone downstairs. He was about to settle back into his book and let his grandfather answer, when he realised he was the only one home. Reluctantly, the teenage boy slithered off his duvet and padded across the carpeted bedroom and into the hallway, barely acknowledging the now permanently empty side of the room that had previously belonged to his little brother. Approaching the phone, Huey prayed it wouldn't be Jazmine calling to apologise once more; quite frankly he had endured enough of her and Caesar's attempts and did not wish to allow them into his life ever again…or at least not for a few more months. Sighing, he snatched up the phone and placed it to his ear,

"Hello?"

There was only silence down the line, with the exception for someone breathing slightly on the other end, and Huey bit his lip. This was the seventh phone call like this in the past month. For some reason, someone was trying to get hold of him, and yet was unable to let out the words that he needed. He knew it was more than a prank call.

"Riley, is that you?"

He was only greeted with silence, and Huey found himself desperate enough to plead with the quiet stranger on the other end,

"Riley, just talk to me. We can sort this out, we can find you-"

The silent person he was begging with sighed regretfully, and clearly unable to do this any longer, they hung up. Huey was left talking into the dead silence of the phone, babbling incessant nonsense about how everything could be fixed and back to normal, if only his little brother would return home. He had been found several hours later by his grandfather, curled up on the ground still holding the phone to his ear, straining his ears into the eerie silence in the hopes he would hear Riley's voice just one more time.

It never came.

_Present Day_

After his conversation with his little brother, Huey was about to excuse himself and head back to the house he was sharing with his best friend's , when he realised that someone really should know what was going on. He could hardly keep the fact that his brother was alive from everyone; it would be cruel.

"Riley, you know I'm going to have to tell everyone you're here, don't you?"

Riley paused mid-bite, having tucked happily into a bowl of lukewarm beans (Huey noted his cooking hadn't improved) looking shifty.

"Nigga…do yo have to? They aint gonna be happy to see me. They'll be all fuckin' pissed and shit wiv me for runnin away."

"Don't you think Granddad should at least get to know?" Huey reasoned with his younger sibling, "You owe him that at least, Riley."

There was a rather pregnant pause, in which Riley shovelled another few spoonfuls of baked beans into his mouth before he gulped them down,  
>"I guess so nigga. But I aint stayin', aight?"<p>

"Whatever you say," Huey hoisted himself from his chair and headed towards the front door, practically bursting with the anticipation of his Grandad seeing his presumed dead brother once more, "Let's just go."

"But I 'aven't finish-fine."

Riley pulled a sulking face and traipsed after his brother, dragging his feet all the way to the cab Huey hailed. During the all too familiar journey to his grandfather's house, the home in which he had grown up in, Riley was far too quiet. He was contemplating how he was to approach the old man after all this time, and wondering if he was still eligible for a beating at twenty one years of age. After what seemed like far too short a time, the two brothers hopped out of the cab and meandered towards the front door of their old home. Huey had not seen his grandfather in almost a year, and though he too was wondering what to say, he reckoned he wouldn't be having as much trouble as his guilty sibling. Letting out a breath he had not been aware of holding, the mocha-skinned man knocked on the door confidently, and waited for a response.

"Huey!"

After what had felt like an age, Robert Freeman had answered the door and had wrapped his arms around his oldest grandson in a rather unusual embrace for his personality. Huey could admit he was a little taken aback, but supposing his grandfather really had missed him after all, he patted his back reassuringly and allowed himself to be led into the hallway, grabbing the hem of Riley's shirt and hauling his brother as he went.

"So how was London? Are you hungry? Isn't it great-"

As his grandfather continued to persist with his endless comments, the Chicagoan wondered how on earth the old man had not noticed the extra person in the kitchen, and then noted that his brother was far too close to be comfortable, and was therefore probably attempting to cower behind his back.

"Yeah, yeah, Granddad it's all good. But listen, I need to tell you something important."

Huey seated himself at the modest breakfast table and waited patiently for his grandfather to follow suit, noticing Riley stayed to lurk nervously in the archway to the kitchen.

"What is it boy? You've not got a cutie pie pregnant have you? I'm too young to be a great granddaddy-"

"No, Granddad. It's something altogether completely different." He trailed off, pondering on how to begin to explain the circumstances to the old man, only to find his grandfather begin the explanation for him.

"Boy, who in the _hell_ is in my hallway?"

"Well that's just it, you see Granddad-"

Huey attempted to illustrate the issue once more, to only be interrupted for another time,

"Whoever's lurkin' in my house better get out here right _now_! I aint in the mood for coyness!"

Huey heard a small groan burst from around the corner, and twisted in his seat awkwardly to watch his younger brother saunter edgily into the tiled room, his hands buried deep into the pockets of his sagging jeans.

"And who is this, Huey? Oh dear lord, you aint gay are you? I _really_ couldn't-"

"He ain't gay nigga! Don't yo know who I am?"

Riley allowed himself to approach the old man in all his glory, shifting his position to fold his arms tightly about his chest, and Huey decided his brother was probably going to have to get used to this method of approaching old friends. The brother watched in silence as their grandfather stared Riley up and down, anxiously awaiting his response to the revelation.

"It cannot be," Robert Freeman hauled himself to his feet, taking in the fact that his youngest grandson was at his eye level, "But you…you were…"

"I aint dead, Granddad. I'm right here. I've been livin' like a fuckin' hour away or something for da past seven years. I called yous both every year on yo birthdays, but I aint sayin' nothin'."

There was yet another pause filled only with the deep breaths of their grandfather, who took his youngest grandson by the shoulders and wrenched him into a rib-cracking embrace, of which he returned. Huey observed them both for a moment, wondering what was going to come of their small family next, before Robert pulled away and slapped the cornrowed boy about the face suddenly.

"Hey! Granddad that _hurt_, nigga!"

"And it hurt _us_ when you vanished off the face of the earth! What in god's name made you even consider that, boy?"

Soon, Huey found himself barely paying attention to the repeated conversation that was unfolding before his eyes, and he quickly made himself invisible, venturing from the house on his way back to the home that he was kindly being allowed to share with his two best friends. As he roamed along the graciously pebbled pathway to the front door of this very house, he noticed Jazmine was doubled over in the garden, wrestling with a bundle of flowers in a rather amusing manner. He allowed himself a few moments to simply lean against the bricked wall and enjoy watching her, the usual scowl on his face softening ever so slightly. Even though he made no noise, she must have felt his presence, as she soon turned to beam and rush toward him.

"Where've you been all morning then? I've been looking for you." She clamped her rather muddy arms around his waist and coated his shirt with dirt all too soon, but the mocha-skinned man found he simply did not mind. He actually noticed he was quite comfortably hugging his ex-girlfriend back, and after a minute or too, realised he felt paranoid about Caesar spotting them and recognising his true feelings, and so let go before he made his emotions far too obvious.

"Caesar is inside, if you wanna see him," Jazmine smiled contentedly, streaking her face with soil as she wiped its perfect complexion with one dirtied hand before returning to her work. Huey nodded patiently, banishing himself into the house at her word. He did not, however, seek out his best friend to confide in. Instead, seeing it was unoccupied, he collapsed into the smaller ebony sofa in the living room, the crimson throw automatically tossing itself around his spindly frame. Sighing, he leant back against one of the colour coordinated cushions and allowed himself to fade out of reality, considering his actions of that achingly long morning.

"Huey? Yo Huey? Big Huey, you in there?"

Caesar's Brooklyn accent shattered the African-American man's thoughts all too soon, and he eyed his situation curiously as he struggled back to the real world.

"What's up with you man? You've been out of it since you got here; is there something we need to talk about?"

_Maybe, _Huey thought sarcastically. _Perhaps the fact that this morning I found out that my brother hasn't been dead for seven years, he's been living just down the road. Or how about the fact that I'm in love with my ex-girlfriend, the one you're going to marry next week, and there's nothing I can do about it. We could talk about that, if you like?_

"No," Huey shook his head quietly as he mumbled his words awkwardly, "It's nothing."

If only.

Don't forget to review, please lovely readers!:) I love _all_ reviews! (even though they're not exactly helpful, at least you bother to put "update soon"). I'm a total review monster, I eat them for breakfast;) If I don't get any, what will I possibly have to eat?:(


	6. No going back

**Hey guys:) Thank you SO much for the previous reviews, you're all so kind! Sorry for the wait, this chapter was harder to write than the others…that, and I've been busy lately (a few accidents with snow and breezeblocks….) so thank you for being patient!:) Enjoy!**

Forces of Nature-6

"_**You know Jazmine, I'm not the kind of person to do this with just anybody. Doing this means I want to be with you forever; no going back. You do understand me?"**_

"_**Huey, I know. You've told me before. But I'm ready."**_

_That had been what she said. She had been ready. And so had he. He had been ready to give everything to her, and she had thrown it all back in his face. When the wonderful deed had been done, the couple lay in the teenage boy's bed silently, the sheets tucked around their torsos as they gazed at one another, emerald boring into maroon as they contemplated over words that could possibly begin to describe their newborn feelings for one another._

"_**That was…."**_

_Jazmine trailed off, struggling to find an adjective that perfectly fitted her feelings. She wrinkled her nose in perplexity as she attempted to run through her vocabulary, and Huey shot her the tiniest of smiles. He often did that; quirking the corners of his lips for a mere second or so, just long enough for Jazmine to understand the warming effect she was having on him. He shifted closer beneath the duvet so their noses were brushing gently._

"_**I know."**_

_The mocha-skinned boy had leant in for another, caressing kiss that soon became passionate, neither of the teenagers able to control themselves as Jazmine flung her arms tight around his neck, hauling him down on top of her once more. The kisses became more frantic, unable to contain their emotions as the couple sank once again into that simply beautiful world of ecstasy, each viewing the other in a completely different, wondrous light that had never been seen before. And it was all theirs._

_Or at least, it had been_

_Present day_

Huey soon found, that he was having far too many of these indecent thoughts of the past memories including himself and his ex-girlfriend. They had been present when he had been living in London, but now that he was in her house, in the bedroom next to hers, surrounded by her presence every single day…well, they were certainly becoming more frequent. They certainly weren't helped by the fact that Jazmine had taken to walking around in just a towel to hide her modesty after a shower, enticing Huey's passion even further. One of these days, he was going to crack and spill everything; he certainly did not need that.

It was now three days before the wedding. Caesar had them both booked into suit fittings that morning (he tended to leave things until the last minute), his grandfather was trying to wangle a place as the caterer if ever the hired caterer "mysteriously disappeared", and on top of this and his aching feelings for Jazmine, Huey was still visiting his brother in secret every other day. Knowing he wasn't working (Huey had managed to explain the Lawrence Escobar case to his boss), his friends were often curious as to where the African-American man was going, and he knew there was only so long he could wait before he spilt the beans.

On that particular morning, the young radical was seated quite comfortably at the breakfast table with his usual newspaper, buried into the newest incompetence that was settling over the country. He had sunk into the habit of waking up at the crack of dawn, unable to return back to the little slumber that he had. Insomnia wasn't an issue he had suffered with since he was a child, but as the wedding had drawn closer, Huey had found himself struggling more and more with sleeping. He wasn't completely sure what it was that was causing these problems, but he would bet anything on the idea that it was the ever looming issue of losing the only girl he loved forever.

He had _tried_ to get over Jazmine. He had spent the last seven years _trying_ to forget his ex-girlfriend and move on. Nothing worked. He had done everything people suggested to try and vanquish memories of his ex. He had _tried_ dating other girls, he had _tried_ busying himself in his work, he had even _tried_ moving continents. But nothing, absolutely nothing, could help him shake off the emotions that battled within him for his only love. It made him feel pathetic, the fact he couldn't even get over one girl. But Jazmine Dubois wasn't just any girl. She had melted his frozen heart and turned him into a good person; steered him in her own naïve way from the path of wrong.

For a whole year of his life, he had been as close to happy as he could have possibly ever been. With Jazmine by his side, he felt on top of the world, like he could have accomplished anything life threw out at him. And now, he was back to square one. He sighed quietly as these thoughts rushed through his head, attempting to delve back into the news of the latest oil spill.

"You seem in a bad mood today."

His peaceful lifestyle was savagely interrupted by the obvious comment, and Huey raised an eyebrow automatically. Bad mood? He was always in a bad mood. But then again, he supposed he had expected the comment from a person such as Jazmine Dubois. Soon to be Jazmine Caesar; even that didn't sound right. Freeman suited her much better….wait, _what_ was he thinking? This really was driving him mad, he was glad of the fact that this time next week, he would be back in Lodnon, regaining his sanity. When he and his ex-girlfriend had been sixteen, they had endured a brief pregnancy scare that had then seemed the end of life as they knew it, but sometimes Huey found himself going as far to wish that Jazmine had been pregnant, if only to have that as a reason to continue dating her.

There was the proof; he really was going insane.

"Have you had breakfast?"

The young revolutionary shook his head absent mindedly, and stared over the top of his newspaper at the woman pottering around the kitchen before him. She was babbling on about some nonsensical rubbish to do with the wedding, but all Huey could focus on was her body. Jazmine's cinnamon frizz was pulled into a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck, her already honeyed skin tanned by the deep summer sunlight. But her clothes were what really caught the African-American's eye. Her skinny frame was tugged into a pair of faded, fraying denim shorts that could have been mistaken for underwear, and a checked scarlet shirt that was tucked into a neat bow just below her chest, her navel and pancake flat stomach on view for all the world to see. And unfortunately, the man found himself struggling to be discreet as he attempted to drink in her entire, godlike body over the top of his daily paper.

"Morning gorgeous."

His beautiful fantasy was shattered all of a sudden by the entrance of his dreadlocked best friend, fresh from the shower with his hair still dripping down his shoulders. He pecked the mulatto woman gently on the cheek and brushed his chocolate fingertips against the bare skin of her navel before plopping down before Huey, a grin splashed across his face, without a care in the world.

"Whatchu doin' today then, Big Huey?"

The African-American shrugged, flicking a page of his paper lazily as he dared to make eye contact with the Brooklyn man,

"Working, I guess."

"Man, you always workin'! I'm surprised you managed to get time off just to come and get our suits." Caesar bit into the slice of toast that Jazmine had dropped before him and teased the young radical, of who shot one of his famous default frowns in response. Of course, Huey was not _really_ planning on working that afternoon. Quite the contrary, he had instead arranged to meet his younger brother in secret once more, immediately after the suit fitting. He wasn't at all comfortable with keeping such a large secret from his friends, but he gathered that one more couldn't hurt.

Eventually, with breakfast over and done with and Jazmine safely shepherded into a shopping spree with a friend, the two young men found themselves ambling towards the nearest tailoring workshop. All the way, Caesar chatted non-stop about all sorts of things that did not register at all in the revolutionary's mind, and he barely recognised his friend was even speaking before they reached the quaint shop on the street corner. Johnson's was a miniature tailor's that was originally from London, but had expanded across continents and was quickly becoming popular with bridegrooms and alike in America.

The bell rigged to the door tinkled appreciatively as the two young men strolled through the glassed front door, wafted with the musty scent of aging fabrics and the whirring of hidden sewing machines. It would appear that Caesar had already booked them into a fitting, and Huey was grateful that his friend had not chosen them anything too alarming to wear at the wedding (though he probably had needed a lot of Jazmine's help). As the mocha-skinned man slipped comfortably into his suit jacket, he allowed his mahogany gaze to slip sideways for a mere second to see how his friend was doing, and just the sight of Caesar fumbling with his ruby tie was enough. The realisation of how close the wedding was came at Huey like a slap to the face, and he blinked furiously as he fidgeted with his own tie, suddenly feeling far too awkward.

"Don't we look ridiculous," Huey glanced back to his right as his friend's tone lured him in, and he couldn't quite register the emotion that glimmered in Caesar's eyes as he continued, "All dressed up. Remember how, when we were ten, we said we weren't ever going to get married 'cause it would only slow us down?"

Huey could remember that conversation extremely well indeed. He just never thought it would come true.

"All too well."

After insisting that he was to pay for their suits ("Think of it as part of my wedding present"), Huey found himself running late, according to his ancient and battered wristwatch, and he had to practically fly out of the tailor's to meet his brother in time, leaving a rather bemused and perplexed Caesar behind. Having not taken the car and not having enough time to wait for a cab to take pity on him, the young revolutionary stormed through the streets of Woodcrest to the modest home that his brother now habituated. When he arrived, panting and heaving on the doorstep, he was immediately greeted by a slightly peeved Riley Freeman, who did not at all appear impressed.

"Where chu been nigga? I gots stuff ta do too, ya know!"

After ignoring his younger sibling's comments and practically forcing his way inside, Huey kicked off his shoes and collapsed into his usual sun-faded chair at the breakfast table, the running of several miles taking its toll on his lungs.

"So, where _have_ chu been? I been waitin' on yous for ages!"

"I'm only twenty minutes late, Riley," The older brother managed to heave out, sinking into his seat as he continued hesitantly, "I was at the suit fitting with Caesar."

For some odd reason that Huey could not find an explanation for, he had unleashed all his current bothers onto his little brother, who did not seem surprised for the most part. He had explained all about Jazmine, about what had happened and his confusion of how he still felt dearly for her, and every single detail including the wedding in three days. And somehow, Riley had actually not teased him, or made any snide remarks at all towards his older sibling throughout their first conversation; in fact, he was quite supportive.

"Nigga, you aint been listenin' to me. Yous love Jazzy, don't chu?"

It took Huey a few moments before he nodded, immediately overwhelmed with an emotion of embarrassment at just the idea of being in love with his ex.

"Well then," Riley persisted as though it was as simple as it appeared in his head, "All chu gots to do is tell her! Or I will nigga."

There was a rather pregnant pause in which neither Freeman brother did nothing, the cornrowed man's eyes fixed on the older sibling, of who was averting all chances of contact.

"In all seriousness, Huey," Riley's expression turned serious as he actually fell into the use of correct English, something he did only when he was trying to be the upmost sincere, "If you don't tell Jazmine soon, you're going to lose her forever. This is your last chance to make things right."

The older Chicagoan resumed silent, pondering over this wise information that was so rarely heard from his brother's mouth, and unable to bear the pressure of the quiet, Riley found himself breaking the stillness once more,

"So, nigga, speakin' of bitches," He paused, as though struggling to phrase his ideas correctly in his head, "Yous, erm, seen Cindy since yous got here?"

Huey's eyebrows knitted themselves together as he frowned at his little brother, a slight sense of confusion plastered across his face,

"No. I think Jazmine said something about her leaving around the time you did. Why?"

It was a questions that did not really need answering. Huey knew all too well that his brother and that…_irritating_ excuse for a white girl had been close friends, but he had always suspected there was something more going on in their relationship. Riley had never actually confessed to having a crush on the blonde-haired ghetto girl, but once Huey understood what love really was, he had been able to see it in his little brother's eyes every time the two were causing mischief together. Blinking back to reality, he observed as the cornrowed man shrugged nonchalantly, diverting his wined gaze elsewhere,

"Let's just say, you aint the only nigga who's been holdin' back."

Luckily for the brothers, or so it seemed at that particular moment, the doorbell sounded to alert them away from yet another period of awkward silence.

"Saved by the bell."

Riley grinned and leapt from his seat, followed by an ever so slightly curious Huey, who took to sinking into observation as his little brother wrenched open the front door to greet whoever may be hovering on the doorstep.

"Betta not be those niggas sellin' chocolate for some shittin' fundraiser. I aint ever doin' that again."

Oh, only if life was that simple. Because of course, it was not chocolate-selling children at the front door.

No. It was Caesar.

The Freeman brothers froze in their tracks as the Brooklyn man looked from one to the other, the pieces of information clearly slotting together like a jigsaw inside his mind. Neither Riley nor Huey could possibly begin to find the words to describe their situation, and so it was left to Caesar to begin the conversation.

"Huey. What's going on here?"

Huey paused, the words catching in his throat as he struggled to string a full sentence together, watching as his best friend eyed his younger brother warily.

"Long time no see, 'ey Caesar?"

Riley scratched the back of his head almost nervously, shuffling awkwardly as he swayed his weight from one foot to the other.

"What…Riley? It is actually Riley, isn't it?"

"Who the fuck else nigga?"

The younger Freeman sibling folded his arms protectively across his chest, frowning with a scowl enough to match his brother's as his eyes levelled with the deadlocked man's.

"But, you've been gone for seven years! We all thought you were dead! Where've you been? I mean," Caesar suddenly turned his attention to his best friend, who was acting as a lurking observer on the stairs, "Did you know about this, man? That's just sick Huey, you must be a really good actor 'cause-"

"You think I actually _knew_ about this?"

Huey exclaimed wildly, his voice drastically returning after the startling accusation from his darker-skinned friend.

"What do you take me for Caesar?"

"Hey, hey, niggas," Riley attempted to wade in between the squared men, of whom were shooting mental daggers to one another, hoping he could aid the situation in any way possible, "It my fault, aight? Yous need tah cut this bullshit out, 'cos this mess is _my_ mess, aight?"

The older friends paused, staring each other down for as long as possible in any way to break the other, leaving Huey the victor as Caesar extended a fist to the young radical,

"Hey, man. Sorry, alright? I just…it just shocked me, I guess."

"S'aight." The African-American man nudged his balled hand against his best friend's, hardly in the mood for making up sessions. After the scattered remains of drama had been swiftly cleared away, Riley ushered the two adults out of his house, demanding that he didn't need two "gay niggas" cramping his house. And so, as they meandered their way to Caesar's shared home, Huey began his tale of finding is once lost brother, though rather reluctantly at first.

All too soon, the time had flown by faster than light, and it was quickly late evening. The picturesque home on the very outskirts of Woodcrest huddled quite comfortably into the summer warmth, basking in the dark of night. Caesar happened to have a second job that few were aware of, one he simply did for enjoyment, as well as for the extra money. He took the night shifts five days a week as a talk-host on the local radio station, and left the house each evening at, more or less, eleven pm, not returning for a good few hours.

So that evening, as usual for a Wednesday, Huey watched the simple scenario unfold before him above his novel as he curled up on the armchair in the corner of the living room. Caesar bounded down the azure staircase like a child, beaming from ear-to-ear as he collected up his belongings for the night ahead. Jazmine was already lurking in the hallway, now only in her pyjamas as she clung onto her fiancé and kissed him hard as he left the house. As the front door was pulled taught, the mulatto woman fumbled around in the hallway, and a burst of realisation his the young revolutionist.

He and Jazmine were alone.

She seated herself in the sofa opposite himself, casually flickering through the channels on the television and completely unaware to the fact that Huey's dark eyes were solely on her. Her honeyed skin had tanned mildly in the mid-summer sunshine, her cinnamon coils marginally damp as they weighed down around her shoulders. He was secretly thrilled that she had kept her hair in its natural state; for most of her childhood and teenage life, Jazmine had been unusually self-conscious of her mixed-race beauty, and Huey had laboured to make her see how beautiful she really was. Her slight frame was hidden with clothes that only just covered her modesty, dressed in a matching pair of lilac pyjamas shorts and a tank top.

He could hardly believe his eyes as to how alluring she was…wait, what was he saying? Of course she was gorgeous, she always had been. His brain was on overdrive; Caesar would be gone for five whole hours. Five achingly long hours that could be spent with the girl of his dreams, she was only a few feet away…_Stop_! What in the _hell_ was he thinking? He couldn't start making moves on Jazmine, not now that she was getting _married_ to his _best friend_ in less than _three_ days! The young radical shook his head furiously behind his book, hoping to not catch the girl's attention as he screamed mentally at himself for being so pathetic. He _would_ get over her eventually, it would just take time.

Time heals .

"Whatcha reading Huey?"

But it sure as damn took a long time.

Startled by her sudden apparition, Huey peered to his left and found himself no less than a few centimetres away from Jazmine's angelic body. Or, to be perfectly honest, no less than a few centimetres away from her chest, as she was perched quite innocently on the arm of the sagging chair, peeking curiously into his novel. He snapped it shut suddenly, closing his eyes tight as he strained to control himself.

"Fine. You wanna come outside? The stars are here tonight."

Though he wanted to retort that the stars were always in the sky, and that actually it was only their polluted atmosphere that was breaching their vision, the revolutionary decided that perhaps, some fresh air would be good for him. Hopefully, it would clear his mind.

And so, though quite slowly at first, the Chicagoan ambled after his friend, who was considerably content as she wandered into the back garden in her bunny slippers. She seized a patterned blanket from one of the rickety, sun-dried chairs on the terrace and set it down in the very heart of the grass, beckoning the mocha-skinned man to be seated alongside. Huey crashed down onto the soft material with a faint rustle as Jazmine flopped down beside him, leaning on her elbows as she gazed wistfully into the sky.

In her distant manner, she did not appear to notice her friend's mahogany eyes as he traced her outline in the twilight, the only source of light being the dimmed amber glares from the back of the house and the scare fireflies that occasionally tumbled into their space. As she stared so hopefully into the dead of night, Huey found he could absolutely not take his eyes off her. She was just so bewitching, her naïve approach to life luring him in like a fly caught in a spider's web. He was completely and utterly under her spell, and she had no idea.

She was _so_ close now. He longed to reach out to touch her, he positively _ached_ to take her in his arms and kiss her as carelessly as they had done when they had been teenagers.

_She's Caesar's fiancé!_

His brain began to argue profusely.

_He's your best friend!_

_They're getting married on Friday! _

_You're living in the past!_

Usually, this was the time when his heart gave up and his brain took over, controlling ever y inch of him until he could take it no longer.

_He'd get over it._

His heart retorted simply.

_The wedding can always be stopped._

_Nothing is set in stone._

_I love her!_

And so, without a seconds hesitation, Huey acted suddenly as his heart steered his control, and he found himself leaning ever so slowly towards Jazmine. The mulatto woman was now sprawled flat on her back, rosebud lips parted in a gentle smile as her emerald eyed glistened with bliss. And, before either of the adults knew what had hit them, Huey could feel her breath on his cheek, the heat of her caramel skin bursting onto his as he caressed her lips with his, the feeling of upmost euphoria burning through his stomach like a liquid fire, filling his body from top to toe with emotion. He never wanted it to end, he wanted to kiss her into eternity and beyond and never have to look back. He loved her so much, he could feel her slim hands skim over the nape of his neck and he deepened the action, his palms cupping the back of her head as he teased her face closer to his. They were kissing for what felt like millions of seconds, unable to hold back any longer.

But of course, all good things have to come to an end, such as this spontaneous act of romance. Huey pulled away smoothly, propping himself up on his palms as he teetered on the spot, anticipating her response. When one failed to come, the realisation of what he had just done sank in, and he stared in horror at the startled mulatto woman, unable to believe himself.

What had he done?

**And there you have it! Please drop me a review guys, they're all appreciated so much:) More reviews= more story. I won't upload the next chapter until I have at least 2 more. So if you want this story continuing, then it's all down to ya'll! Ha, thanks so much anyway:) You know I love you all really;) Until next time!**


	7. Realisation

Sorry about the long wait:/ I have so much on my plate right now…but I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! I even put in a little RileyxCindy for ya'll to enjoy:3 Don't forget to review!

Forces of Nature-7

_What had he done?_

The Chicagoan stared blankly at the mulatto woman, desperate for her to reply to his actions. How could he have been so stupid as to believe she still loved him? She was getting married to Caesar on Friday! If she truly did love him, she would have never cheated on him all those years ago. Knowing now that his secret was finally out, Huey let out a deep breath he had been unaware he was holding, and pushed himself away from the startled woman. He was so ashamed of himself; he had exposed his true feelings for the first time in seven years, and now he was only going to be hurt all over again. The only reason why he was so cold in personality was simply because it acted as a shield, a barrier to block all actions that could hurt him after….

"I…Jazmine…Sorry."

Unable to string a full sentence together, the dark-skinned man leapt to his feet and tore away into the night, wondering if he would ever be able to face that beautiful woman ever again.

Jazmine had gone straight to bed that night, not wasting any time in bothering to wait for her fiancé. She had been tossing and turning for hours, not able to push the thoughts of Huey's kiss from her mind. It had shocked her, she had been granted no idea at all that the young revolutionist still held feelings for her, and she had once been the one to know him better than himself. The passionate movement replayed over and over again in her mind, ripping her reality to shreds and gnawing at the edges of all she knew.

This was the simple problem. She had been convinced for seven whole years, that she loved Michael Caesar more than her heart could ever express, and that no one could love her more back. The latter was true. But now, after that wonderful, mind-blowing kiss beneath the stars, Jazmine was struggling to convince herself that Caesar was the right man for her after all. She had always loved Huey, _always_. Ever since she was a little girl, he had been the one she dreamed of, the one she wished to be with. He had been her world; and then she let him go.

Lying there, in the depths of darkness with the steady rhythm of her fiancé's breathing to shatter the silence, the mixed-race woman began to wonder who she actually loved. Her mind told her Caesar; the one who had been there for her when Huey had neglected their relationship, the one who was always optimistic and open with his feelings, the one who confessed his love to her on a daily basis. But her heart was screaming Huey, the one who knew her better than anyone, and the one that loved her more than words could ever say.

So what was she going to do? She would be getting married to, maybe, the wrong man in just two days. Jazmine had undergone no such second thoughts in the lead up to the wedding, why did Huey have to go and wreck that perfect record now? _Why_ could he have not just told her _before_ they got engaged, he had been given seven years to express his feelings. It was not like he had shown any signs as to actually having feelings for her…or had he? As she had said, Jazmine knew Huey better than anyone. She could tell when he was happy when others simply saw his frown, and she could tell when he was _really_ hurt. She could tell how much pain he was in when he first saw her and Caesar together, though she knew he would never admit it. And though she had ignored the nagging idea until now, Jazmine realised that she had seen her best friend's heart break a second time during that last webchat.

He had never stopped loving her. After everything she had done, after all the pain she had caused him. He still loved her.

But did she love him?

_August 30__th__ 2016_

"_**I just don't know what to do anymore Caesar!"**_

_The dreadlocked teenager pulled the mulatto girl into a gentle embrace, his dark hand rubbing her back comfortingly. It wasn't the first time Jazmine DuBois had come running to him that week, and all due to the same reason. Huey Freeman. Caesar could have killed his best friend; he understood that the African-American was grieving for the loss of his little brother, but how could he let someone as precious and beautiful as Jazmine slip from his grasp? If she was Caesar's girlfriend, he would cherish her forever, and make her as happy as she could ever be. _

_If she was his girlfriend…_

_Caesar had suffered a crush on the cinnamon-haired girl since they had first met at the tender age of ten, and even then he recognised she leant more towards Huey than him. Even so, he had never given up hope, not even when his two friends started dating, though hiding his envy was always a struggle. Huey certainly understood the Brooklyn boy's feelings, and managed to keep the physical side of their relationship as muffled as possible from the view of Caesar, though he knew all too well that the two teenagers were no longer virgins. That infuriated the deadlocked boy even further- he had wanted to be the one to be trusted with Jazmine's virginity, __**not**__ his best friend!_

_So this was his chance. If Huey couldn't be grateful for what he was given, he would have to learn not to take anything for granted the hard way._

"_**I don't think he loves me! No one loves me Caesar, everyone just labels me as a freak-"**_

"_**I love you, Jazmine."**_

_That had done it. The honey-skinned teenager glanced up at the darker boy and blinked, her emerald eyes glistening with tears and confusion._

"_**That's sweet, but I meant-"**_

"_**No, Jazmine. I mean it, I really do love you."**_

_As if to prove it, he had bowed his head and brushed his lips ever so cautiously against hers, savouring the moment._

_And they had been together ever since. _

_Present Day_

At the crack of dawn, Jazmine slunk from the shallow waters of slumber to pad across her bedroom, praying she wouldn't wake her angelic fiancé. The cool azure of the hallway soothed her thoughts, and she sank into the memories that simple colour granted her, before pushing the door into the guest room ever so slightly. The Chicagoan was hunched up in a foetal position beneath the sheets, his face streaked with dirt that must had emerged during the hours he hid from the house. She wondered how someone could look so peaceful when sleeping, and continued to ponder how he could managed to get any sleep at all.

Cautiously at first, she tiptoed to the side of his bed and probed the sheets hopefully, her memory blurred as to whether he was a light sleeper.

"Huey?" She whispered, her voice barely audible as she began to tug slightly at the beige covers, "Huey, wake up!"

There was a mumble, a non-committal grunt, and the man rolled over to face her, his eyes still stubbornly closed as he willed himself back to slumber.

"Huey, you've got to wake up!"

She breathed, shaking the mocha-skinned man manically as she struggled to drag him from the depths of sleep. After what felt like an eternity, his mahogany eyes snapped open and his default frown set in, which somehow was more unsettling than usual.

"I want to talk about…about what happened last night."

Jazmine sank onto the corner of the mattress, fidgeting nervously with the hem of the ebony throw as the Chicagoan hauled himself up into an awkward sitting position, waiting for her to continue.

"Well…I…You can't tell Caesar."

"Why would I want to tell Caesar that I kissed you?"

His eyebrow arched perfectly, and the mulatto woman winced instinctively when he mentioned their previous actions.

"I don't know I just…I don't know what I was thinking."

"Maybe I should be making you not tell Caesar."

He was probably right. Sighing, she turned away and began to leave the bedroom, though halted as she reached the exit to glance back at her best friend.

"Oh, Huey?"

The man dragged his gaze up to her level lazily, a bored expression plastered across his face…an expression she knew all too well was simply a mask.

"I heard about Riley."

For the briefest of moments, she thought she saw his face soften, but its solid frown was replaced so suddenly, she began to believe she must have been imagining things. Casting the African-American a slight smile, she crept out of the bedroom and headed back down the hall, hoping her fiancé would still be in the dark about the situation on their wedding day.

"Chu _kissed_ her? Man, Hue, yo ass in deep shit now nigga."

Riley laughed down the phone at his brother in his most sympathetic manner, sprawled out at his kitchen table, his socked feet propped upon the plastic top. The older Freeman brother retorted with something foul, hung up, and left the cornrowed man to simply contemplate over his new life. After Caesar had stumbled upon his existence, it appeared that his secret was out for the whole world to gossip over, and he was receiving at least three phone-calls a day from people he barely knew. Though the excitement was soon blowing over, Riley found himself still lingering around his phone, keeping his mobile in his pocket at all times in just the sheer hope that the one person he wished for most would call.

"I aint no pussy whipped or nothin' tho'."

He muttered to himself furiously, fidgeting with the lightweight device on the table-top in a rather bored fashion. He hadn't seen her since the day of the accident, and though he had called her house many a time, she had never been as clever as his older brother to decipher the silence he ensured. Since Huey had tracked him down, Riley had attempted to make contact again, but it would appear that the girl he longed for had deleted her old number and moved so far away that people seemed to barely remember her existence. Which he thought was quite a difficult feat to achieve.

_August 17__th__ 2016_

_After understanding that his brother had given up on him for the final time, Riley charged in a blind mess from the house he had shared with his small family for the last six years. He knew he didn't have much time to lose, and if this was going to be the last time he saw her, he was going to have to do what he had been meaning to do for such a long time. The "final showdown" as his leader put it, was going to occur at 3pm…giving him exactly fifteen minutes to find her and get to his final destination, judging by the digital numbers flashing on his mobile phone._

_The rain that was pouring down was only making it harder for him to run along the pavements, his shoes slipping and sliding across the sleek stones, tripping over cracks and dipping dangerously into puddles. He didn't have the time for this, even a few seconds late and he would be dead for sure. After everything he had been through, that was what his life simply narrowed down to; life or death. Panicking as his precious time began to float away from his grasp, the cornrowed teenager hurtled through the torrents of weather to reach the basketball courts, where he knew she would be, no matter how heavy the rain got. _

_As they came into sight, a bubble of hope rose in his stomach and he rocketed forward, so desperate to reach the chainmail fences in time. Cars screeched their horns and swerved off at wild tangents as the young boy darted into the courts, gaining the attention of the girl he loved perfectly. She was hovering in the very centre of the burnt umber tarmac, a basketball clasped in her hands firmly as she raised an eyebrow at the boy heading straight for her. All he could see was her curving frame, her ocean hued eyes, her windswept fishtail plait that trailed loosely down her back. _

"'_**Ey, Young Reezaay! Wha'chu doin' fuckin' around in da rain, nigga-"**_

_Cupping her chin with both palms, the teenage boy pulled the inside-out oreo closer, locking eye contact for a mere second, before crushing his lips to hers in a way he had never imagined possible. Wine eyes closed to the world, he floated in his own pure world for a moment, with only the feeling of the rain soaking their clothes and the sound of a falling ball rolling away, forgotten. Liquid fire burnt through his veins, washing through his nerves like a tsunami as they kissed, a sensation that continued to ripple through his entire being as they broke apart. _

_Riley stared into the azure eyes of the white girl for as long as he dare, his dark hands still resting on the back of her neck as he attempted to collect his feelings. Knowing this could be the very last time they saw one another, the Chicagoan dropped his head and closed his eyes for a second time, embracing the rain._

"_**I love you."**_

_And then he was gone._

_Present Day_

It was almost nine in the evening when Caesar's stag party began. Apart from him and Riley, there was no one else that Huey actually recognised, and he assumed all the other men must have been people his best friend met during his seven years of drifting existence. That's what they felt like now; a faded memory, or a dream that was slowly slipping from his fingers. A few of the guests were already half drunk, he could assume, and it wasn't long before they had left the comfort of the house and were out nightclub hopping, much to his dissatisfaction.

Huey didn't mind having a drink or two, he wasn't against alcohol in any way…he just hated the affect it had on him. The last time he had got pissed, he had ended up blurting out all sorts of embarrassing things that really should have been kept to himself. He didn't want to get drunk enough to tell the world that he had kissed his best friend's fiancée who also happened to be his ex-girlfriend. Riley still loved getting hammered off his head, so Huey had a plan in place in case his outgoing little brother decided to spill the beans.

In this current club (the fifth one of the night, and it was only eleven pm) Huey found himself to be attracting far too much unwanted attraction from both men and women alike. Though the men tended to be so intoxicated with alcohol, he could smell them a mile off. He had given up on the glorious ideas of him getting back together with the love of his life, but that didn't mean he was about to go slobbering over some slut who failed to chat him up. He just wasn't that way inclined. And a tiny, ever so small, part of him still latched on to the idea that Jazmine may have feelings for him.

A thought that was only possible in his wildest of dreams.

Jazmine was having the time of her life. It was just after midnight, her wedding day had arrived, and she couldn't have felt better. She was in a nightclub in the next town, so as not to fulfil the superstition of bad luck after seeing her fiancé before the wedding that afternoon, and as everyone knew, Jazmine DuBois was especially superstitious. She and her five girlfriends were all completely and utterly pissed, and they couldn't string together even a sentence without subsiding into waterfalls of giggles. To be perfectly honest, the mulatto girl never was one to drink so heavily, but after what had occurred the night previously, she felt like the more drunk she became, the more likely she was to forget the whole experience. And she so hoped she would.

Some hours later, through unsure of the time, Jazmine was vaguely aware of the sensation of being carried, and she had to blink several times to attempt to take in her surroundings. It would have appeared that she was being taken to her parents' house, the location she had agreed she would stay in during the night before her wedding. Or morning, if you wanted to be technical. She watched the familiar route of heading upstairs and into her old, fairy-tale bedroom unfold before her, and faintly realised a few choice words slipped through her clamped lips.

"I think I love him."

"Of course you do honey," A simple reply came, "You're going to be marrying him in a few hours."

If only they knew.

_She hated the way his frown grew when she passed. _

_She hated the way he saw right through her, granting her with purely blank stares day after day._

_She hated the way he never spoke a word to her, refusing to look her in the eye._

_She hated the way this was all her fault._

_She had collapsed wearily onto the bench alongside her boyfriend, of whom was flicking his dreadlocks over one shoulder casually and biting into a hamburger, looking as though he hadn't a care in the world. She knew this was a lie, however. Ever since their best friend (though they very much doubted he acknowledged them as that any more)_ _had stumbled upon one of their many shared kisses, he had wiped them from his life. And the strain of losing your best friend wasn't something that was easy to deal with, not even for the optimistic Caesar._

_Especially not when you knew you had cheated on him._

_She shouldn't have done it. She knew that. She had seen the way his heart had broken just by staring into those mahogany eyes of his, and had never felt more guilty for anything in her life. And then it was his turn to ignore her calls, her texts. She had even tried visiting their house, once alone and once with Caesar. The first time, when she was alone, Robert Freeman had answered and given her a look of such disappointment, it had stayed within her mind forever. The second time, Huey had answered, and for a moment, hope rose within her that perhaps they could all be friends again. They had stared each other down for a while, each waiting for the other to make their first move. Caesar acted first, nudging out a chocolate hand for Huey to shake._

_The young revolutionist had slammed the door in their faces. _

_Ever since then, he had blatantly ignored their existence, turning away if they merely glanced at him and changing route if they happened to be going in a similar direction. Though she knew he hated them both now more than anything, Jazmine did catch the Chicagoan looking at them from time to time. He would see their exchange of kisses, their twining of hands, and he would react in a way that was least unexpected by Jazmine. She had thought he would do something dangerous and physical, like punch a locker or throw something at her boyfriend. Instead, however, he would merely close his eyes and turn away, like he was unable to continue to watch them. _

_The way he showed how hurt he truly was, was what pained the mulatto girl the most._

_She never believed life would get any better, that the angry radical would ever forgive them. She would never forgive someone for cheating on her in such a way, and saw no excuse for Huey to ever do so. Until that day in the canteen, when she was leaning lazily against her boyfriend and sneaking a few of his chips into her mouth whilst pouring over a borrowed textbook. She heard footsteps growing closer, but didn't feel the need to pay much attention until a pair of skinny legs stopped directly beside the couple._

_She felt her boyfriend tense up, and suddenly realising who it could possibly be, Jazmine glanced up for her emerald eyes to meet raging mahogany ones. The trio stared at one another for a moment, both Jazmine and Caesar startled by their sudden reappearance into the African-American's life, and were even more shocked when he opened his mouth to speak._

"_Here."_

_He shoved a pristine textbook into the mulatto teenager's already full arms roughly and turned away briskly, not wanting to be around longer than was necessary. Blinking, the cinnamon-haired girl opened the front cover cautiously, recognising the book as the one she had lost previously, and stared open mouthed when she saw what had been scrawled across the entirety of the front page._

"_**Fuck You." **_

"_**I think he's on the road to recovery." **__Caesar smirked at the writing, slinking an arm around his girlfriend to kiss her on the lips. As he did so, though she enjoyed it, Jazmine felt her fingers tighten their grasp on the textbook. No matter how hard she tried, she could not shake the pure look of hurt that rested forever behind Huey's mask, and wondered how long it would take before the guilt would wear off. _

Jolting back to reality, Jazmine sat up suddenly in her bed, a movement she instantly regretted as she was hit by a momentous hangover. Noting it was still dark outside, the mulatto woman lay back down to the image of her ex-boyfriend as a teenager, with his shattered life crashing down around him every single day. The image of his eyes, his smile, the laugh she had finally conjoured, the kiss they had shared just two nights before.

"I still love him."

She admitted to the world, able to confide in the dead of night.

Because even your shadow leaves you in the darkness.

we're getting close!:D I can hear the wedding bells already. So please guys, you know the drill. Be a darling and drop me a review, I know lots of you read this. Silent readers are the worst. I need 4 reviews before I can continue this story. It's such a little number, I know you can do it!:D

Thanks for reading:3


	8. Wedding Bells

Soooo sorry for the long wait! I can not apologise enough, I've been so busy and I struggled to write this, but I was on a roll tonight so finished it:D I really hope you enjoy this, please review! I don't like silent readers! More reviews=more story :)

Forces of Nature-8

It was the morning of her wedding day. The one perfect day of your life that every girl dreams of. Unfortunately for Jazmine DuBois, this day could not have come at a worse time. Why did she have to come to terms with the revelation that she was still in love with her ex-boyfriend just that morning? Why could it not have been sooner…seven years sooner, to be precise? She had hardly slept a wink that night; all waking hours were spent contemplating over her disintegrating relationship with Caesar, and all her slumber was spent dreaming of Huey Freeman.

She didn't know what to do.

All brides had second thoughts at one time or another, but not on a scale like this.

It all narrowed down to one single choice; make Caesar happy by marrying him, but losing the love of Huey Freeman forever…or breaking Caesar's heart, and choosing to mend Huey's instead. Jazmine collapsed onto the edge of her bed, stroking the silk rose throw absent-mindedly as she rested a weary head on one of the beams of her four-poster. The gentle creases of her ivory wedding dress folded beneath her frame and she ran a hand along them lovingly, her mind blurred with the seeping fog of confusion. She wished the whole ordeal could be a simple dream, and that she could wake back up seven years previously, in the arms of the young revolutionist, instead of living a nightmare.

Soaking up her surroundings, the young woman took in the perimeter of the room that had been hers ever since she could remember. The walls were washed faintly in pink, with a cerise carpet and pastelled shag rug. A collage of photographs in the shape of a heart splashed themselves across the opposite wall, and it was only then that Jazmine noticed the centre image was of Huey Freeman himself, looking his most irritable and yet most handsome, frowning as he refused to glare the camera in the eye. Whether it had been a deliberate or subconscious move, the mulatto woman could not be sure, and she chose not to ponder over the matter for too long.

The cherry curtains were patterned with simple cream roses, a chink of summer sunlight craning through to cast shadows across the numerous soft toys that had faded with age, tumbling from shelves and lining the skirting boards like a loyal army. Speckles of dust floated throughout the sunbeams, spiralling towards the ceiling and out of sight like an intricate dance. The chiffon fuchsia netting that waterfalled from the height of her bedpost wafted before her face in imitation of a veil, and Jazmine pushed it away irritably. In a room that had been hers ever since she was a baby, surrounded by such familiar items and decorations, the mulatto woman had to wonder how she could feel like such a foreigner in her own home.

She was only alone at this time ( two hours from the wedding) because she had simply asked her bridesmaids to leave her alone for a little while. They had obliged instantly, probably assuming she wanted to think over her memories with her fiancé, or maybe even contemplate her future. She knew they wouldn't possibly ever guess the fact that she was actually wondering over whether to go through with the wedding itself. Dragging her emerald gaze lazily to the mirror on her dresser top, Jazmine ran a slim hand through her hair and studied her new look.

The hairdressers that had arrived not long earlier had been forced to relax her hair slightly from its wildly afro texture to tight curls that, though still were predominately difficult to deal with, easy enough to style. The best way had been to nudge the corkscrew curls into a deep side party before coiling a handful behind her head in a pattern Jazmine could not begin to replicate. Gazing into the very heart of the mirror, the young woman rested her elbows on her knees and leant forward, her eyebrows buckling in perplexity as she looked herself over. Ever since her parents had struggled through their almost divorce when she was a child, the mulatto girl had vowed to never sway from the right path and stick by her love no matter what. But what would that little girl have to say to her now?

Breaking out of her daze, Jazmine shook her head furiously and stood up, glaring at her equally fierce reflection. It was time to man up; she wasn't that little girl any more, she was Jazmine DuBois and she was a grown woman. It was time to foot her foot down and make the right decisions for once. And so, rallied on by her self-determination, the woman flung her bedroom door open and charged down the stairs, ready to face the world no matter what life had in store for her.

Huey had not slept a wink the entire previous night, and he was only just managing to hold himself together as he clambered into the gleaming black car alongside his best friend of thirteen years, Michael Caesar. The said man was trembling from head to foot with nerves, tapping an unsung rhythm on his kneecaps and consequently irritating the young radical, of who was desperately attempting to gather a few moments sleep during the journey in order to stay awake for the entirety of the day.

"Nervous much?"

Caesar replied by simply chewing his lip, the motions of his fingertips increasing as the car drew ever closer to their destination, causing the Chicagoan to roll his dark eyes as he stared blankly out of the window. To be perfectly frank, he was a little nervous too…but he wasn't about to admit it. He really was going to lose Jazmine forever; he had tried to win her over and his efforts had clearly been futile. She was going to marry his best friend and there was nothing he could do about it, he wasn't going to spoil their day for them. His plans had already begun to form; he was only going to stay for a short while, probably leave during the reception, and head for a plane straight back to London as though none of this had ever happened. He could go back to normal, and forget about Jazmine DuBois forever.

Hopefully.

"Man, what if she says no? What if she never turns up? What if she calls it off?"

Caesar was borderline panic attack by now, and Huey sighed as he retorted flatly,

"She won't. Get a grip Caez, she aint about to bail on you."

Though for some reason, a niggling part of him believed otherwise.

The remainder of the journey passed in silence with Caesar fidgeting with his tie and Huey gazing longingly out of the window, wishing to be anywhere but there. He almost wished his little brother had endured the car ride with them, but he had already planned to hitch a ride with their grandfather. Deepening his frown, the young revolutionist glared at the passing world and stifled a yawn, wondering why fate had such bad taste.

The wedding itself was to be held in the church where Jazmine had been christened as a baby, and though she was not particularly religious, she did hold a certain fondness for the building, and Caesar was happy to agree. The interior of the church was decked out in deep shades of ivory and scarlet, with not a single detail missed. Bouquets of rubied roses and creamed lilies dotted themselves around the hall, silked sheets of matching colours twining intricately around the stone columns. Even the pews were in keeping with the design, patterned crimson and snow white prayer cushions hooked to the chestnut wood. It was, Huey realised as he stepped through the door, Jazmine's dream wedding. The one she had described to him as a teenager…the one he had assumed would always be theirs.

The Chicagoan sauntered in the general direction of the head of the room, where his best friend was fidgeting awkwardly with the hem of his jacket. The guests were already spilling into the hall, and it would appear that each family was trying to out-do each other with their outfits, each more elaborate and in Huey's opinion, more stupid than the previous. When he turned to glance back at his best friend, he noticed that Riley was dishing out bundles of advice that seemed to be making Caesar more and more agitated, and the young revolutionist found it the best time to intervene.

"All I is sayin' nigga, is dat if she aint turnin' up, yous should still have da reception-shit-thing. All Young Reezy's sayin' ere, is dat all dat food would go to waste an'-"

"Riley shut the fuck up," Huey glared at his younger brother, who pulled a childish face despite his mature age before sauntering away to interrogate a few other guests. The young man turned to his dreadlocked best friend, who's unusually agitated behaviour began to be rather unnerving.

"What if she doesn't turn up Huey? What do I do then?"

Rolling his eyes for probably the hundredth time that day, Huey dug his balled fists into his pockets and shrugged nonchalantly,

"She will man. What reason does she have not to?"

_Me. _

Pushing the whining voice from his head, Huey observed as his darker skinned best friend nodded, gulped, and closed his chocolate eyes in relief.

"You're right man. You're always right; I was just being stupid. She'll be here any minute, and it'll all be fine."

_Don't bet on it._

Ready to beat his head against a wall, the Chicagoan squeezed his mahogany eyes tight shut and forced himself to focus on something, _anything_, other than the issue staring him in the face. Caesar and Jazmine would be married, everyone would be happy, their reception would be perfect, and then they would leave for their wonderful honeymoon and never look back. That was how it would be.

_That is how it should be._

All of a sudden, the music flared up from all around them, and the priest was urgently shuffling the uncoordinated men into position. There was an eruption of "_Oohs_" and "_Aaahs_", and knowing exactly what, or more appropriately _who _was coming down the aisle, Huey slowly, ever so slowly, nudged his head to take in the sight behind him.

_God she's beautiful._

And for once, Huey agreed with the truthful voice buried within his head. Jazmine's cinnamon hair had been coiled into place with a heavily detailed ruby clip, allowing her corkscrew curls to tumble free down her back. Her ivory dress was strapless with a heart shaped bodice with a slight train that rippled about her feet like water, delicately embroidered along once side. She was walking in perfect time to the melody of the music, her skin practically glowing with radiance. Her dark-skinned father, the least-black black man Huey had ever met, Tom DuBois, was hanging onto her arm as though he was reluctant to ever let his little girl go.

Caesar's face lit up when he dared to glance around at his future wife, looking unable to comprehend just how beautiful the young woman was. As she passed, Jazmine peered quickly to one side, and for just a fraction of a moment, her emerald eyes met the mahogany of Huey's own, before she was passed hesitantly over to the Brooklyn man.

The moment forgotten.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today-"

Huey tuned out after that. It wasn't that he didn't care, on the contrary, the face that his best friend was marrying the girl he loved was certainly something he did indeed care about, but he didn't really want to face it. He vaguely heard the priest mention something about "reasons why these two should not be married," and though he could think of plenty of reasons, the Chicagoan was not about to spoil the day for his two best friends. They deserved one perfect day at least, he couldn't do something so selfish to them, no matter what his brain decided upon. Everything was going smoothly.

_Or so you think. It's getting interesting now._

Blinking back to reality, Huey shook away his daze like a stray fly, and steadily began to take in the scene unfolding before him. Somehow, the time had fast forwarded to the vows, and as he watched Caesar say his with relative ease, Jazmine's face was filled with emotion. It wasn't the usual overjoyed look that most brides had, either. Instead, encouraged by the slight nibble of her lip, the mulatto woman looked agitated, panicked even. Her eyes weren't locked onto her future husband's, but darting around the room nervously, as though looking for an escape.

Before they set on his.

_She doesn't want to go through with it anymore._

Jazmine was sending him pleading look after pleading look, but Huey was taking no notice. What was she doing? She had made her choice a long time ago, he wasn't about to stand up and screw everything around again. He replied with a further furrowing of his brow, shooting his most furious glare towards the young woman and praying that she would choose the right decision.

"I, Jazmine Amelia DuBois, take you, Michael-"

_She doesn't love him really. Not like she loves you._

Jazmine was struggling again. The words seemed to be caught in her throat, as though she was unable to lie before everyone she knew and cared for. For some reason, however, this seemed to startled her, and she attempted again and again, even going as far to close her eyes to block the outside world from view.

_She isn't going to do it._

Caesar was looking worried, his chocolate-skinned hand reaching out to brush against her honeyed. But then, just as the boat began to sink, the doors to the church seemingly flung themselves open, and Jazmine was saved. The entire congregation turned their heads in one sweeping motion to catch a glimpse of what or who had barged inside the holy building with such force. Sighing exasperatedly at the achingly long period of time this wedding was taking up, Huey only slowly dragged his head to the back of the hall, and only really because his younger brother was staring with eyes as wide as golfballs.

"Yous gots to be fuckin' with me."

There was indeed a person standing at the entrance to the hall, a young woman to be precise. She was tall and slim, but still filled out enough in just the right areas. Her skin was as snow white as they come, her straw blonde hair swept into a dishevelled fishtail plait around one shoulder, her ocean hued eyes rolling over the confused and angry faces that filled the hall. She had slithered her form into a slinky, jet black dress that clung to her skin in just the right ways, matching ballet flats slipped onto her feet. As she sauntered along the aisle towards the couple at the head of the room she began to call out an apology, and only her accent gave her identity away to the Chicagoan.

"So sorry my ass is late Jazzy-gurl! I's jest gots back an'-" She paused, as though only just realising where she was and coughed, before flinging her skinny arms around her best friend fiercely, "This aint da best time."

The young woman began to shuffle awkwardly towards one of the free spaces on the pews, not appearing at all embarrassed by her sudden intrusion, and it was only then that Huey realised his little brother was standing up.

"Cindy?"

The inside out oreo glanced round curiously, one hand slung on her hip as though prepared for an onslaught of abuse for ruining the moment, a hand that collapsed back to her side as she locked contact with the cornrowed man. There was a torrent of whispers and judgemental murmurs as the two young adults stared each other down, daring the other to speak next. No one had seen or heard from Cindy McPhearson in seven years, her vanishing act doubling the likes of Riley Freeman. But now that he was back…

"Riley? No way nigga, yous meant to be dead…yous _was_ dead."

"Nah, nah man I aint dead."

The couple had moved steadily towards one another throughout the moment like they were connected to a magnetic field, now officially taking up centre stage. The priest seemed just about beside himself with the amount of foul language that was passing between his place of worship.

"Da _fuck_ nigga! If you aint bin dead, where yo bitch ass bin all dis time?"

Sensing an argument brewing, the priest and a few others managed to quietly shepherd the duo outside before anything too serious broke out, and once the doors were closed on their faces, they found they were able to speak properly.

"Nigga, where da fuck has yo ass bin?"

Before his could prepare himself, a balled fist was sent flying in his direction and collided with his nose with such force, the darker-skinned man was hurled backwards through the hair.

"Nigga, does yo ass understand what yo fuckin' around _did_ to us?" The blonde haired fury screeched as she craned over Riley, who was still struggling up from the ground, "What yo fuckin' around did to _me_?"

As he hauled himself from the earth and began to dust the mud from his suit, the cornrowed man began to explain, but was rudely interrupted by yet another fist slamming him in the face.

"_No_ nigga! Yous aint _ever_ gonna get what yous did to us!

"Cindy," Riley choke out as he stumbled back to his feet, "It was either me or you, nigga. Dey says they gonna come kill yous if I aint goin'. I ran when dey got out 'there bitchin guns, but if dey found me, they'da _killed_ me Cindy! I had ta get my ass outta Woodcrest."

"We coula fought 'em off, Reezy," Cindy argued, folding her arms tight to her chest as she looked away from the Chicagoan, "Yous didn' needta run. We coulda helped, nigga."

"Nah, nah I's didn' wanna risk it, Cindy."

The two young adults walked on for a moment through the fields that surrounded the church, just comfortable in each other's company. When they finally came to a halt at a straining willow tree, Cindy seemed unable to contain herself any longer, and flung her arms tight around the cornrowed man, who was bemused by her sudden actions.

"I's glad yo bitch ass is safe, nigga. Even if yous fucked up in da head."

She breathed the words into his ear, her soft cheek pressed to his for a fraction of a second before she pulled away, choosing instead to seat herself at the foot of the trunk. Riley couldn't help but wish that she had held on a little longer, and he managed to pluck up the courage to crash down alongside the straw-haired woman, his hands fidgeting with the bark of the tree for a while. The two sat in silence, not needing words to enter into their moment, but the quiet seemed all too much for Cindy, who after a while, turned to the mocha-skinned man with a confused face,

"Riley?"

"Yeah?" The cornrowed man directed his gaze towards the woman, allowing himself to be blown away once again by her ocean eyes, his head resting back against the rough of the tree.

"Did yo, I mean," Cindy seemed to struggle to force the words out, something that was obviously unusual for the outspoken woman, "When yous left dat mornin'…"

Oh god, that morning.

"Did yous," She hesitated again, selecting her words carefully, "Did yo mean it, Riley? What chu says to me. If yous remember."

"Course I remember, Young Reezy don't forget nothin'."

Cindy nodded slowly, tossing her fishtail plait from one shoulder to the other, unable to settle.

"S, did yous mean-"

"Yes."

The inside out oreo blew out heavily, her eyes glued to the wisps of grass that tickled her bare feet (the ballet flats had lost themselves along the way).

"Does you still-"

"Yes."

A silence hung in the air so thick you could have sliced it with a knife, and Riley found himself shuffling closer to the girl beside him ever so slightly, so close that eventually, they were only millimetres apart. Cindy swung her head round and raised an eyebrow at the cornrowed man, watching his every move like a hawk. When his hand brushed over hers, a jolt of electricity shot between their skin, so sharp and so sudden, yet Riley did not pull away. He intertwined his fingers with hers slowly, his wine hued gaze moving steadily from their locked hands to the eyes of the blonde-haired girl. Cautiously, ever so cautiously, the younger Freeman brother leant forward to caress his lips to hers, a tsunami of pure ecstasy washing throughout his entire being.

A niggle of self-consciousness had already assumed and prepared him for when Cindy tugged away, but he was surprised to find that she did the total opposite; choosing to deepen the kiss instead. Riley's free hand slid to cup the young woman's chin, his fingertips brushing the soft down of her cheek so gently. As she mirrored his actions, he allowed his palm to slide down to rest softly at her waist, wishing the moment would never end. The couple only broke apart to gulp for air, and the cornrowed man managed to breathe a few choice words before they sank back into their own world,

"I love you. I honestly do."

"There."

The priest clapped his hands together happily, pleased with himself for ridding the holy building of the two swearing young adults. He swept back down the aisle towards the couple, Jazmine's saviour forgotten in a matter of mere moments.

"Where were we? Ah yes…If you could repeat you vows, dear."

As the mulatto woman began to stutter her way through the lines again, Huey allowed his mind to wander once more. He had never, not in his wildest dreams, believed that Cindy McPhearson would ever reappear into their lives…and he had never believed that Riley would be able to reunite with the one girl he loved more than anyone else in the world. For a short moment, the young revolutionist was hit with a sudden, rare burst of jealousy at the thought of his brother's dream coming true, and not his own. But these thoughts were pushed to the back of his mind, quickly; he had no time in his life for a girlfriend. Saving the world was more important, the _revolution_ was more important, than any girl.

Especially Jazmine DuBois.

_Yeah, you keep telling yourself that. _

"I do."

Startled, Huey's head snapped up rapidly to watch his best friend complete his vows. He wasn't sure that he had ever seen Caesar so happy, ready to be able to spend the rest of his life together with the person he loved. The Chicagoan's deep eyes swivelled to observe the cinnamon haired young woman, drinking in her agitated movements.

"And do you, Jazmine Amelia DuBois, take Michael Caesar to be your lawful wedded husband, in sickness and in health, to love ant to cherish until death do you part?"

"I-" The young woman glanced around the room hesitantly, fidgeting nervously with her slender hands as she blinked furiously, "I….I…I…"

Her jaded eyes came to rest on Huey, and he glared at her menacingly. What the _fuck_ was she doing? It couldn't be too hard to say two little words.

"I…I," Jazmine looked close to tears, her eyes glued to Huey's as she strained to force the words from her lips.

"Jazmine," Caesar's worried expression was plastered all over his sweet face as he reached for her gentle hand again, hoping in some way to comfort her, "Jazmine?"

"I-" The young woman took one last look at the furious Huey, who decided to rest with a wholly blank expression and turned his head away, "I'm…sorry."

"What?" Caesar cocked his head ever so slightly, not even bothering to brush a stray dreadlock from his vision as he stared at his fiancée, "Jazmine, what do you mean?"

She backed away slowly, unable to make eye contact with anyone, falling victim to the anticipated mumblings that buzzed around the audience.

"I'm sorry, Caesar."

And then she was gone.

Ahaaaa I love cliffhangers:P Bythe way guys, Rest of My Life by Bruno Mars goes really well with the wedding scene (it's the song Jazmine walks down the aisle to) :) please review! It's getting close to the end, and the more reviews=faster I'll write the next chapter!:D


	9. Runaway Bride

WOOT, here we are again ya'll:D I soo hope you enjoy this chapter, I promised I'd get it up for you today and I did!:D yay3 Ok, so please read, enjoy, and review!:)

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Forces of Nature- 9

_And then she was gone._

For a moment, all was still in the church. Caesar hovered uncertainly in his place, frozen to the spot, the rings still clasped in his palm. The deadly silence that loomed into the church was only filled with the chirruping of the blissful birds outside, no one daring to make a sound. Huey was staring at the ground where Jazmine had just been standing, unable to comprehend what was going on. What the _hell_ was she doing? She was meant to be marrying Caesar and being happy for the rest of their lives, not throwing it all away for…well that was just it. He wasn't sure what she had expected from him, but only now did he realise that things weren't going to go as smoothly as he had innocently hoped. The crowd squashed into the pews paused for a moment, like the entire world had halted in its tracks. Until the priest shuffled forwards.

And then all hell broke loose.

The people went into uproar, arguing and shouting, families turning on one another all because of a scared young woman's one mistake. The priest was struggling to regain control within the holy building, and now would usually be the time for Huey to step up and yell at the members in the room to "Stop actin' like dumb niggas and shut the fuck up!" But this wasn't to be the case. Instead, the young revolutionist allowed his gaze to fall on the form of his best friend, who seemed to be slowly crumpling like a marionette with cut strings. Huey couldn't recall ever seeing Caesar in a state like this…well, not since the incident with his late father.

"Caez…"

Unsure how to act, the African-American reached out a hand to almost pat his friend on the back in the most comforting manner he could muster. Or would have mustered, if the gesture had not been slapped away.

"You did something, didn't you, Huey?"

The radical retracted his hand, unblinking. What did Caesar know? When he failed to retort, the dreadlocked man spoke again, his face scarily washed of any emotion,

"She was looking at you…the whole fucking time. What the _fuck_ did you do, Huey? What sadistic shit did you shove in her head this time?"

"I didn't say anything to her, Caez, I swear."

Huey managed to stumble out a sentence that at least partly made sense, wondering where the hell his usual voice had got to. His brain seemed to have faltered with guilt, his body backing into the pews that lined the floors just behind. Though Caesar's face remained empty of any feelings, the young revolutionist could clearly see the spark of rage that flashed through his friend's deep eyes. Huey was lying straight through his teeth, hoping that he wouldn't have to fight his best friend. Unfortunately, Caesar knew him all too well.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Huey! Did you tell her we'd be divorced by thirty? That early marriages never last and we'd become a fucking statistic?"

"I said fuck all, Caesar!"

Huey retorted, because at least that was partly true. He'd done much worse than that.

"Then _what_, Huey? Because all I _fucking_ know, is that all this shit happened as soon as _you_ got here! Everything was perfect before _you_ showed up!"

Caesar was seeing red, his dark hands clenched into fists as he squared his shoulders and stared the young revolutionist down. Something was hurtling through the air towards him, and before he knew what was going on, something hard smacked him right in the middle of his face, causing him to black out for just a moment. Huey should have seen it coming. What was wrong with him? He used to be able to beat his brother so easily when they were only children, why couldn't he defend himself against his _best friend_?

Maybe because he knew Caesar was right. As blood trickled from his nose and onto his palm, Huey blinked as the world passed in slow motion, only slowly able to take in what was really happening. Caesar was speaking sense; he shouldn't have kissed Jazmine, he shouldn't have come to Woodcrest, and he should have tried harder to shake off the …crush, he held over the mulatto woman. Caesar was right.

_But Caesar was the one who stole Jazmine in the first place, correct?_

But he had let her go. He had neglected her, forgotten her while he had the perfect opportunity to strengthen their relationship.

_Everyone makes mistakes. Caesar, your _best friend_, took your girl. Don't you want _some_ revenge? _

"This, all of it, is your fucking fault, Huey _fucking_ Freeman!"

The dreadlocked man barked in the radical's face once more, not even bothering to brush away the hair collapsing into his vision. His eyes were glazed over with hatred, but Huey had stopped caring about his friend's feelings. As far as he was concerned, this wasn't his problem.

"You're wrong, Caesar. _You're_ the one who started this whole fucking thing. _You're_ the one who took advantage of Jazmine back when we were teenagers, _not_ me. This is _your_ fucking fault."

Huey's voice had managed to stay eerily calm throughout the argument, and neither were aware of the hundreds of pairs of eyes that were locked on their battle. Caesar was seething, shaking with the onslaught of his anger and the mocha-skinned man was half expecting him to start frothing at the mouth. Caesar aimed another punch at his friend, to only have it blocked by Huey's startlingly returning agility, and so struggled to try again. This routine only became too repetitive for the impatient Chicagoan, who just wanted to find the runaway bride and explain himself.

"Why the fuck are you even bothering, Huey? No one wanted you back here anyway! I only asked 'cause I felt sorry for yo' ass, all lonely and pining for _my_ girl. No wonder Riley ran away, I can't say I blame him."

That did it.

Huey's body tensed with rage, his hands balling into fists before the collided beautifully with the Brooklyn man's pretty face, the force so great that he was thrust backwards through the air. Caesar's body arced wonderfully as he flew towards the ground, a fountain of ruby blood spurting from his nose, just the right colour to perfectly match the surroundings. Even when his body crumpled, heaving, to the ground, the young revolutionist did not halt his onslaught on the man who was meant to be his "best friend". It took Huey several more powerful hits to the man's face and stomach before he could pull away, his breathing heavy and ragged. Caesar was wheezing in pain, his face contorted furiously as he strained to haul himself into something at least resembling a sitting position. Too angry to care, the young radical spun on his heel and raged out of the church, ignoring the stares as he passed.

He was done.

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Jazmine burst out of the heavy oak doors of the church with a slam, leaning into the wind as she ran with all her might. She didn't know where she was going, and she didn't give a damn either. She was so confused as to how she was feeling; she was so full of guilt and pity for leaving her fiancé back at the alter…and yet, she couldn't help but to feel wonderfully _free_. Free of having to hold in a lie that she could never tell, free of the worry of having to marry someone she may never be happy with. Free to now love who she pleased.

Her slender, honeyed hands grabbed at her skirts before she sprinted into the fields surrounding the church, the train of her ivory dress and veil billowing out behind her like a cloud or a puff of smoke, so light and breath-taking that a single blink, and it could be missed. Her embroidered ballet flats, a gentle shade of cream, were allowing themselves to be coloured by the daggers of grass, staining lime at the edges. Her studded clasp had tumbled free long ago, her cinnamon curls dancing in the current of the wind. Her breath was deep and sudden, her heart pounding with adrenaline, her feet skimming into the middle of nowhere. And she had never felt more alive.

It was only half way into her journey to nothingness, when the young woman stumbled across a couple in the very heart of a rather intimate embrace. She halted in her tracks to grant her curiosity access and attempt to recognise the two who were exceedingly involved with one another…two people who she soon realised, she knew all too well.

"Jazzy?"

Riley and Cindy had been in the middle of a rather lengthy kiss when the hysterical bride stumbled into their moment, a notion they had both hoped would never occur. They had ended up at that particular spot purely for its distant location to the church, and had been praying that they could be together there without any unwanted interruptions. Unfortunately, they just didn't pray hard enough.

"Jazmine," Cindy cocked her head a little, straightening her frame against the straining willow tree, "What's going on, girl? Did y'all get hitched a'ready?"

The mulatto woman shook her head steadily, as though only just coming back to reality. In fact, Jazmine felt like she was being tossed back to earth with such a force, she was going to be granted with a crash landing. The sheer force of what she had done was finally beginning to overwhelmed her, and already she could feel her too-emotional state bring tears to her eyes.

"I ran out before I could finish my vows." The honey-skinned woman whispered, her voice only just audible as it carried itself away on the breeze. A silence fell between the rio as each came to terms with what had just occurred, before Jazmine collapsed to the ground, burying her face in her knees as she tangled her hands into her corkscrew curls.

"Oh what have I _done_?"

She dared not to look up at the young couple, who sat in a rather bemused state of affairs for a moment before Cindy slunk forward and wrapped an arm around her best friend.

"Jazzy, girl, I thought chu loved Caez an' all dat shit? I thought yous was gonna be together until fucking ever?"

The inside-out oreo's failed attempt at sympathy only seemed to stir the situation up more as Jazmine burst into a fresh peal of tears, sobbing furiously into the palms of her hands. Cindy glanced over at her now-boyfriend for help, and it took several silent assaults before the cornrowed man joined Jazmine on her other side.

"Yeah, ni- Jazmine. Shit will work out, it always does. An' anyways nigga, da reception's still on, 'aint it? What'chu got to cry about?"

Cindy shot Riley a furious glare, who then shrank back a little and proceeded to pat the hysterical woman awkwardly on the back.

"Why'd chu do it, Jazzy-gurl?" The blonde-haired woman settled into the grass alongside her friend, who was still whimpering into her hands, "Don't yo love Caez no mo'?"

Jazmine snuffled and managed to choke out a suitable string of sentences before she collapsed back into the comfort of fresh tears, "I don't think I ever loved him, Cindy. I was just trying to fill the space that Huey fitted. I've loved Huey all this time and let Caesar believe it was him...I'm such a horrible person!"

"Bet Huey's over da fuckin' moon, though."

Riley muttered aloud, causing yet another set of mental daggers from his girlfriend. Jazmine said nothing, continuing only to snivelle mournfully into her knees and probably ruin her wedding dress. As Cindy tried her hardest to console the weeping woman, the Chicagoan felt something buzz deep within the pocket of his rather dishevelled suit, tugging out his phone with the sign of a new message blaring across the screen. After unlocking the mobile, he found himself gaping open mouthed at the recordings of what was actually a video message.

"Aye, C-Murph, take a loada dis shit."

Riley thrusted the phone into Cindy's face and her ocean eyes widened in awe as the watched the scene unfold on screen. The video was, of course, taken of the whole scenario between Huey and Caesar mere minutes earlier, and even zoomed in to the part where the afro-haired man began attacking his "best friend".

"Woaaah, Jazzy-gurl. I'da nev'r thought yo ass would be da one fought over an' shit."

Cindy blinked in amazement at the mobile, and even Jazmine was tempted enough to raise her heads slightly to lock her emerald eyes onto the moving pictures on the screen. As Riley replayed it for her, all could see her eyebrows raise higher and higher until they seemed to vanish into the crown of her head, before her eyes welled up once more and the waterworks turned themselves back on at full flow.

"It's all my fault!" She cried loudly, her words muffled by the netting of her ivory dress, "They're only fighting because of me!"

"True dat."

Riley agreed simply, to only be smacked across the back of the head by Cindy, who was once again exasperated by his lack of tact.

"Nigga, shut yo goddamn mouth, aight?"Cindy threatened, giving her boyfriend a shove before rounding back on her best friend, "Jazzy…Jazzy, look at me."

Jazmine glanced up at the inside-out oreo, her eyes glistening with tears as she hiccupped miserably,

"Do you love Caesar, or Huey. It's a simple question, girl."

Jazmine faltered for a moment, as though seriously considering the pros and cons of each one in her mind before mumbling softly, "Huey. I love Huey."

"It's simple then, gurl," Cindy nodded in agreement with herself, "Yo get yo ass up, and yous go tell him! Yo got all da time in da world ta say sorry an' shit ta Caez, but right now, yo gotta tell yo man yo love 'im. Yo don't wanna lose him again, aight?"

Jazmine nodded sorrowfully, about to pull herself to her feet and set off just as she should have done hours ago…before crashing back down into a heap again.

"I can't go, Cindy!" She wailed into her knees, "I can't face everyone. Not yet."

"Fine," Cindy rolled her eyes and blew a wisp of her hair from her face irritatedly, climbing to her full height and dragging Riley with her, "Me an' Young Reezy'll go an' find dat fuckin' nigga ya love so much. We tell 'im ta come 'ere."

As the young couple sloped off, Jazmine slithered towards the safety of the shaded tree, cowering behind the sloping willow leaves that acted as a curtain to hide her from the world. Resting the point of her chin upon her knees softly, the mulatto woman brought her legs up to her chest and huddled beneath the fountain of ferns, wondering just what was going to come of her life. She kicked the now dollar green flats from her feet and watched them tumble pleasantly out of view, rolling away beneath the leaves of the tree that skimmed lightly against the grassed ground. She locked her arms tight around herself and closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of her toes wiggling free between the blades of grass. She had been here before.

_Summer 2014_

_It was a beautiful day. That was one thing no one could disagree on, not even her best friend, Huey Freeman. The two were plonked perfectly at their usual spot on the hill several miles from their neighbourhood, just happy in each other's company. No words needed to be spoken between the two for them to understand one another, they had been so close for so long, it was like they knew what the other was thinking with just the hint of a glance. _

_Today was going just like any other day. It was still late morning, and the Chicagoan had his nose buried deep within the pessimism of the daily newspaper as usual. He was propped up on the side of the trunk casually, moving only to turn a page in his reading and not bothering to glance up at any other moment. It was as though he was in his own little world, his fourteen year old minf absorbing the issues of the world and fighting to resolve them all. Huey Freeman, who, at the end of the day, just wanted to save the world. He just wanted to be a hero._

_Jazmine thought he was her hero. For the longest time, she had been in love with her best friend, and she was mature enough (believe it or not) to know that the feelings she held for the mocha-skinned boy were not just that of a crush. She was totally and inexplicably, unmistakably head over heelsin love, with Huey Freeman. And he hadn't got the slightest clue._

_Or, so she thought. Usually, he was as cold as ice, the scowl on his face locked into position so that it was probably there when he slept, but Jazmine could admit that there were moments when her best friend's shell seemed to suffer cracks. Sometimes, when she leant too close or brushed quite innocently against him, she could feel his body tense up. When her hand fell on his, she could swear a slight blush would rush across his cheeks before his palm was snatched away as though scalded, but she supposed he was just scared. Scared, not necessarily of her, but perhaps the feelings he got when being around her._

_But maybe, it was just Jazmine's optimistic imagination. _

"Huey?"

_There was a non-commital grunt from his general direction, and Jazmine bit her lip as she stumbled out the words,_

"I think my parents are getting a divorce."

_It was partly true. Tom and Sarah had been arguing a lot recently, sometimes over the tiniest of things, and though divorce had never been mentioned, Jazmine was all too scared of losing her prefect family. When her world wasn't revolving around Huey, it was magnetised to that of her parents, plural. She couldn't imagine life without either one of them. Which is why she was less than impressed by her friend's unfeeling retort of,_

"That's nothing new, Jazmine. Most parents break up. It's a harsh fact of life, you might as well get over it."

_Now, Huey often said things that upset Jazmine…she could admit, she was easily hurt. But this comment really stung. The teenage boy knew how much she loved her parents, and quite frankly she was fed up with this type of comment from him. Couldn't he just be kind to her, and try to understand her problems just for once?_

"_You_," _Jazmine glared as she forced herself up, her tone of voice enough to make Huey stare up at her from the intrigue of his paper, "_Huey Freeman, are one of the most _selfish_, horrible, cruel,_ mean_ people I have ever had the misfortune to come across. I don't know why I still have you for my friend, you don't care about me at all!"

_She stormed away, tears stinging her eyes as she immediately felt a tsunami wash over her. Instead of being weak and turning back to apologise, however, Jazmine continued to flounce down the hill, furious with both herself and her best friend. She didn't expect him to follow her, usually it was the other way round, but when she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders to whisk her round, the words were already streaming out of her mouth,_

"_I hate you,_ Huey Freeman! I hate you, I hate you, I-"

_Jazmine had never been kissed before. She had always tried to imagine what her first kiss, with Huey of course, would be like. But she could never have thought in her wildest dreams, that it would be anything like this. It was so short, yet it felt like millions of seconds were passing by. She had never expected someone as sharp and brash as Huey Freeman to be so gentle with her…but she had always hoped. By the time the teenage boy had pulled away, the mulatto girl was in a state of pure ecstasy, unable to get over the feeling of sharing her first kiss with the one person she had always hoped for._

"Don't you ever think or say that again," _Huey's frown scowled at her, though she could see more than just anger in his eyes, his hands still plastered to her shoulders, "_Don't you _ever_ say that I don't care about you, Jazmine, because it's not true. I love you."

_And then he dropped his grip and trudged away down the hill, newspaper tucked under his arm and leaving the teenage girl stranded in the ocean of grass, as though nothing had ever happened._

_Present Day_

"I thought you'd be here."

There was a slight rustling to her right, and the deep voice startled Jazmine out of her daydream as she turned to her left to spy the one man she had always been thinking about. Huey looked more dishevelled than perhaps she had ever seen him; his hair was even untidier than usual, his suit was ripped and splattered with blood, and he had lost one shoe on his way. He spied her bare feet and tossed the other through the leaves of the weeping willow, smiling through his eyes at her form,

"Might as well join the club."

He crashed down alongside the cinnamon haired woman, resting back against the rough of the tree just as they had all those years ago. Jazmine dared to turn her head to gaze at him, watching cautiously as he stared directly ahead, as though seeing something through the leaves.

"Caesar's going to be fine," Huey said flatly, as though speaking to no one in particular, "He's just got a broken nose and jaw. Nothing too bad. He's pretty winded though."

Huey dragged his now bare arm across his face to remove the blood that was still straining to trickle from his nose, coughing a little as he did so. It was as though he was waiting for Jazmine to speak, but for once, the woman was speechless. She couldn't even begin to find the correct words to string together to explain herself. So Huey did the work for her.

"Why did you do it? Leave him at the altar like that? Not that I'm complaining…"

"Because," Jazmine choked out, surprisingly, "Because I realised, I couldn't go on and make a commitment to someone I don't love."

Huey nodded solemnly, as though taking in this fresh information like he already didn't know,

"And you love someone else?"

"You know I do," Jazmine replied, shifting closer to the man so that they were mere centimetres away.

"Good," Huey stated, before whipping his head round and breathing in her ear, "Because I do too."

The mulatto woman beamed and craned forward, tilting her head just so as the Chicagoan crushed his lips to hers, the two finally able to be with one another in peace. The kiss took no time and forever, just the two of them, together, always. Jazmine's hand automatically intertwined with his, pushing herself closer to the one man she had only ever loved as he slipped an arm sweetly around her waist. Suddenly, Huey was on his feet with the young woman swept into his arms, bridal style.

"How appropriate," Jazmine giggled softly, leaning in for another kiss as Huey made his way through the shade of the willow leaves to the outside world, the two refreshing in the warmth of the sunbeams that caressed their skin.

"I will always love you, Jazmine." Huey whispered to the woman gently as he padded down the side of the hill, feeling like things could never get any better.

And so, he let free a smile, just for her.

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And they all lived happily ever after…?

I finally made it guys!:D

Tell me if you want another chapter to this, but I think I've done it justice:) Thanks for all the support and PLEASE review! You know how much I need the comments:) I love you all.


	10. New Beginnings

Ohmigeee look who's updating!

It's the epilogue of Forces of Nature!:D Yaaay!

I was planning on doing this already but a few of you told me I should do, so…here it is:)

Hope you enjoy! Don't forget to review; it makes my day and more reviews=more stories in the future!:)

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Forces of Nature-10

It had been three whole years since the events of that fateful summer. Everyone's lives had changed so much since then, it was like they were completely different people.

After much deliberating and confusion, Riley and Cindy had actually decided to tie the knot, quite soon after they got back together, which was a surprise for many in fact. Neither seemed much like the commitment type, but Cindy had moved into Riley's apartment (he was strangely unable to bear the thought of parting with its wildly blue contents) almost immediately after the failure of a wedding, and getting married was just the next natural step for the duo. That, and Cindy had insisted that she wasn't going to have their baby being born without the correct securities of both a mother and father. The sudden pregnancy was probably another factor in the early wedding; but with Jazmine as the planner, not a single detail was missed even during the rush of the entire ordeal.

He had never imagined what it would be like for his brother to have children. Kids weren't really a notion he liked to consider often; his childhood had been so disturbed by so many things, he couldn't even begin to believe that any child related to him would ever grow up happily. This, he later discovered when his nephew was born, was a completely irrational thought on his behalf, and he swore to never think anything of it again. Jonah held the exact personality of his parents, with double the ego, a feat that had been assumed to be impossible. Despite this, however, he could be quite sweet at time, and was the duplicate of his father, except possessing his mother's turquoise eyes and lighter hair tone.

Caesar's happy-ever-after had taken some time to reach, unlike that of the younger Freeman brother. Jazmine frequently sent him get-well soon cards for the broken jaw and nose, to which he was seen throwing in the skip alongside his house. It was probably the understatement of the century that he was taking being left at the altar a little hard, and the mulatto woman was left wracked guilt for almost a year onwards until the dreadlocked man finally grew up and spoke to her in the street. Personally, it had taken him and Caesar a while longer than that to actually face speaking to one another, and the conversation had only occurred because Jazmine had insisted on the two rekindling their friendship.

It turned out that Caesar had found a woman to love, a mixed-race beauty named Angelica, who had come to Woodcrest from California to visit family in the neighbourhood. They had undergone a chance meeting at a nightclub one night where Caesar was showing off his DJ skills and had never separated since. In fact, the young Brooklyn man had moved with his lucky lady to her hometown, and they had only recently got married. There were no glitches, no reasons as to why the couple could not be wed, and even the honeymoon had gone as perfectly as possible. Believe it or not, Caesar had appointed him as best man for a second time- a feat that he had naturally assumed would never occur due to the previous…incident. But their friendship had spiralled wonderfully into what it had during this period, and now it was like that one summer had been a simple nightmare, a spark of imagination gone horribly wrong.

And now, it came down to him. Him and Jazmine. For the first few months of their relationship, the couple had lived in his gorgeous apartment in London, biding their time until the rollercoaster of emotions had died down in Woodcrest after the scandalous scenario. He had been able to finish up his time at the detective agency quite nicely, and Jazmine had transferred her fashion design easily to the new continent, working for a British company for the simple period of time. In a strange, rather twisted way, it was as though the two were on a honeymoon, away from all the pestering of families at home and spending every waking minute in the other's company. Quite honestly, it was the relationship the two had been dreaming of since they had become teenagers in an adult world.

They had decided that, for the time being, they weren't going to get married. It wasn't that they didn't think they wouldn't stay together, far from it, both of them firmly believed they were going to be in a relationship until the end of time. they had grown to the point that, as a couple, neither could imagine life without the other, and it was decided that after Jazmine's first hiccup of a marriage, they were just going to take life as it came. They moved back to Woodcrest during January of the next year, just in time to catch the first breath of snow and that mug he had left on the worktop of his apartment all those months ago before it became a breeding ground.

His apartment was, really, nothing special. Quite honestly, compared to the one he had been granted in London, it was a mess. It was never somewhere he loved being, and he held no fondness for it, meaning that when Jazmine brought up the topic of buying somewhere to live together properly, he practically leapt at the chance. There was only so long he could stand living in that place, with a bedroom big enough to fit only a single mattress in and nothing more. The duo, having quite enough money to live comfortably in the majority of homes, chose a modern yet rather gentle home to habituate in. Jazmine had been unable to bear the thought of living too far away from her flapping parents, and so the home they chose was just on the outskirts of Woodcrest, close enough for Jazmine to visit her family and far away enough for him to pretend to ignore his.

There were many things that he loved about his new home. He loved the way the windows in the master bedroom allowed him to look out across the entire city each and every morning as he woke up. He loved that every time he opened his eyes in bed, Jazmine was always beside him. He loved that he was never alone, because deep down, loneliness was something the young revolutionary had always feared. But the thing he possibly loved most, was what came with the house. Yes, the feelings Jazmine gave him were extraordinary, but he could have those wherever they lived. You see, the couple had chosen very carefully when picking their future home, and counted themselves exceptionally lucky with the one they had managed to catch. The house they had bought had a large amount of land at the back, but there was something so special and meaningful to only the young couple about this part of land. Mainly, because it held a very certain hill, which carried a particular willow tree that, once upon a time, had held the energy of a small boy and girl with so much potential and, inevitably, held the spark of a love story.

It was this very hill where he collapsed now, leaning casually against that very tree with that morning's newspaper in hand, a mug of coffee in the other. The day was straggling into the sunlight, the wonders of the city laid out before him like a map to an explorer, just waiting for its treasures to be found. It was early enough for Jazmine to still be in the depths of slumber, even though she counted herself as an early-bird. The day before had been a busy one, however, and he could fully understand her staying in bed that morning. Sipping his coffee, he sank back into the intricate patterns of the rough bark and stifled a yawn, rifling through his paper lazily and enjoying the moment of content that he felt for his life.

When his nephew had been born, he had felt this sudden rush of emotion that he couldn't quite understand. The arrival of Jonah had changed everything for everyone, even him, who had been stubborn enough to believe that life would go on as normal. He never really thought he was good with children; he was always too brash and brutally honest with their simplistic views on the world and the people that surrounded their lives. But he realised, along with the words of his brother, that these ideas change when the child is actually close to you. Jonah was his weakness, and though he would never admit it, everyone knew.

Huey never believed he would ever have children of his own. He never believed a lot of things, until they occurred, and he supposed that it was just his stubborn attitude making itself heard. He was surprised that Jazmine managed to put up with him, but he had to deal with her naivety so he assumed it was just a matter of balancing their traits. That was what life was, really, a juggling act. The juggling increased in intensity nine months previously, when the cinnamon-haired woman had announced she was pregnant. He had to actually ask her if the child was his, because he couldn't begin to take in the prospect of being someone's father. The emotions had come in stages; Denial, Fear, Panic, and eventually, Excitement.

Denial had already been mentioned. Fear was the hardest to deal with, from his point of view. He had been old enough to remember his pathetic excuse for a father, and ever since those memories had been engraved into his mind, he had been scared of becoming even the shadow of what that man had been. If he was going to be a parent, he wanted to be kind and caring like his brother (he had never imagined he would ever want to be anything like Riley), not the monster that his father was remembered for. He was scared of becoming something he simply wasn't, and it took Jazmine to show him that even though he could be hurtful and cold, evil simply wasn't something he could ever be.

It didn't take long for Panic to set in. The prospect of becoming a father had not quite successfully sunk into the young radical's mind, and the notion came to him in possibly the most awkward of ways. He had been in the supermarket with Jazmine, who was around six months pregnant and heavily aggravated at the time. The couple had been in the middle of a half-hearted argument, with Jazmine mostly taking her frustration out on him as he muttered cynical retorts whilst pawing through the milk cartons on the shelf. It was only when his girlfriend spat out the words, that he realised he was going to be a father. _He_ was. Huey Freeman. His brain shut down, taken over by the panic caused by a few simple words, and he had dropped the basket laden with food before supporting himself on the aisle and crying out that he was going to be a parent.

It hadn't been one of his most noble moments.

And finally, Excitement came. Wonderful, perfect excitement. He dived into everything; transforming the spare room into a canary-coloured nursery, trudging round shops for baby clothes, he had even gone to one of the prenatal classes suggested by Jazmine's mother (though, after being called to the front for a demonstration by the leader, he swore never to go again). He had forced himself to be the best person possible for Jazmine during the last stage of her pregnancy, and managed to somehow control his sarcastic remarks so they remained at a minimum for the remainder of the nine months.

Always one for surprises, his girlfriend insisted on not discovering the gender of the baby until the birth, which he simply saw as doubling the task of finding suitable names for the then sexless child. For some reason he would never understand, Jazmine held a certain passion for the name Finn if the child was a boy, and the discussion became apparent that if it was a boy, Finn he would be, and if a girl, then the name would be down to him.

Isla Sophia Freeman had been born just the day before, and Huey's head was reeling. She had arrived as early in the morning as physically possible, a notion that Jazmine had decided was to make life as difficult as possible. He had been there throughout the entire ordeal and was glad of it (though at some moments he had been absolutely scared shitless, and made a serious mental note to never mess with Jazmine when she was in pain) and it was the most wonderful feeling in the universe when he got to hold his daughter for the first time. If he was frankly honest…he hadn't wanted to let go.

From what he could tell, his daughter's skin was the perfect mix of both his and Jazmine's, and though her hair was still dark, he assumed that it would stay a rather deep shade. Isla, like every other baby, had brilliant blue eyes, but he couldn't wait to see what colour they became. He secretly hoped they would blur into mahogany like his own, but he didn't really care either way. She was absolutely perfect in every single way, and he didn't realise it was possible to love anyone so much after only knowing them for such a short period of time. So far, she seemed to be a quite baby and he was clinging to the prayer that they would be one of the lucky sets of parents with a baby that hardly cries at all.

But no matter what happened, it was safe to say that, for possibly the very first time in his twenty six years of life, Huey Freeman was feeling as content and happy as he could ever be. And he knew, deep in his heart, as he turned a page in his newspaper and sipped at the steaming coffee, that life could only get better.

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And that's it folks!:)

I hope you liked the names I came up with:) I'm not too interested in getting into their children, but I figured they needed names so:P It was hard thinking of a name for Riley and Cindy's kid…:/

_Please_ review this dudes! I have stayed up till after midnight to write this for you, so the least you silent readers could do is drop a few words to say what you liked or didn't like:)

Not many understand just how much I appreciate little things like that:)

I really hope you all enjoyed Forces of Nature- I sure enjoyed writing it!

I have two other stories started: Reminiscence and The Week That Time Forgot.

Both Boondocks ones:) So drop a review if you have the time:)

Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing this story, I love you all!

Until next time:)

Kaz3


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